Darkest Desires
by Fire'CxO'Ice
Summary: With all the things he'd done, the lives he'd snuffed out like they were nothing, inconsequential things that stood between him and his honour-driven desire to save his sister, it only made sense to expect it all to come crashing back down on him tenfold. Somehow, he would get himself killed doing the right thing for once. Orphen/Cleao.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This is my first Orphen fanfic *squee!*  
I tried my best not to make the characters OOC - thats out of character, right? :S**

**K, I won't hold you back! Just one little thing:  
The beginning of the chappie is a little extreme...Hope it doesn't discourage you from reading onwards!  
Aside from the first part, there's some fluff and humour!**

***FnI*  
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* * *

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_Chapter 1_

"No, Orphen...Wait..." She pleaded softly with him, the foreboding feeling inside her stomach growing with every passing moment. "It's too much...I'm not ready..."

He laughed, cold and piercing, his hands running along her arms, down to her thighs.

_Wasn't she? Hadn't she dreamt of the moment Orphen finally requited her feelings too many times to count?  
_  
"You've wanted this since before we even met," he whispered in her ear, his hands travelling further, making her face burn- but it wasn't with pleasure. An image of the man she loved, strong and protective of the things he cared about, flashed through her mind before it shattered. Searing stabs of shame washed over her and she tried to push him away.

_This wasn't what she wanted at all. She wanted him to love her, not lust after her.  
_  
"I said no, okay? Get off me!"

Cleao shoved his arms away from her and stepped back. She hadn't realized how small the rooms in the hotel were; she'd barely taken half a step before her back pressed up against the unexpected cool wooden panels, her sweaty palms slapping against the old walls.

_Why is he being such a jerk? He was acting almost...nice to her, earlier. What's gotten into him?_

"Orphen..." she murmured uncertainly, staring at him in fear. This was all wrong. How could she be afraid of _Orphen,_ her saviour, her protector?

"What's the matter Cleao," he taunted, taking a slow, purposeful step forward. There was a strange glint in his eyes that was almost deadly, a look she'd never seen on him before. She shimmied toward the door, splinters digging into her palms. "You're always telling me what a mature young lady you've become."

Another step met with another shimmy, her skin screaming in protest. She bit down on her tongue to keep from crying out.  
_  
_"There's only one sure way to prove it," He laughed again, that dark, dangerous chuckle, his amber eyes glinting maliciously. Slowly, his eyes never leaving hers, he took another step forward.  
Without a thought, she sprinted away from the wall, heading toward the door to their right. Her sandals slammed against the floor as she ran, blind with fear. Her arm stretched out, reaching for the knob.

_Gotta get out gotta get out gotta get-_

Something slammed into her stomach, sending her flying backwards. She hit the floor with agonizing force, sending the already-painful splinters slicing deeper into her. For a moment she just lay there, paralyzed by the pain, as her vision slowly cleared. She could taste blood in her mouth, whether from the blow to her stomach or the hard landing, she didn't know.

"Did you really think I wouldn't see that one coming? How dumb do you think I am?"

Groaning, Cleao managed to slowly sit up. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, she stared at him in horror. Tears of pain pricked the corners of her eyes, a lump forming in her throat as he leered at her.  
Orphen was leaning casually against the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her. His left hand was glowing slightly, the last remnants of a spell fading away.

"Well, now, that wasn't very fun was it? I really hope you don't make me do it again." His sarcasm hit her like a slap in the face- almost as painful as the actual blow she'd just received.

He'd _hit _her. And not a normal hit, either. He'd used magic to _hurt_ her... That was something she thought Orphen would never do.  
Only once, in the entire time they'd been together, had he ever raised a hand to her. And even then, he hadn't hit her. He'd been so ashamed of himself after that.  
And now, here he was, blowing her across the room with spells.

_What the hell is wrong with him?!  
_  
"Wh..." the words just wouldn't come. She was still winded from the powerful blow. He pushed himself off the wall and she immediately scrambled backward, using her feet and palms for purchase on the dusty floor, ignoring the stabbing pain it caused her. Once again she found herself trapped as her back met with something soft and silky...

She was sitting at the foot of one of the two beds.

Seeing the glint returning to Orphen's eyes, she scrambled to her feet, one hand clutching her stomach.

"Stay...back..." She wheezed as he moved toward her. "I'm...warning...you..."

_Where the hell was Majic? Damn...Hadn't he said something about studying ruins? And what about Leki?_

"One...more step...I'll...I'll..."

He was standing in front of her now, close enough for her to smell him. He smelled...wrong. Not the way she remembered him. He'd always had a woodsy, musky scent that made her feel safe and warm. Now she felt like she might puke. His scent was almost sour.  
Tiny beads of sweat covered his skin, his eyes rimmed in red. His face was pale, clammy, with an almost wax-like sheen to it.

"Orphen, you're sick," she tried desperately, praying that he would listen. "Something's wrong with you. This isn't you! For God sake, please!"

He laid a hand on her shoulder, resting on top of her dress strap.

"Please..." She begged, the tears finally falling. "Don't...do...this..."

There was a sound of ripping fabric as he drew his arm across her chest, and then her dress fell to the floor in shambles. She stood, bloodied and bruised in front of him, wearing nothing but lacy yellow lingerie.  
She slapped him as hard as she could, scratching at his face with her nails. Felt the sting as what little splinters hadn't immersed themselves in her palms finally sunk in.  
For a moment the room was silent but for her uneven breathing. She'd given up any hope of escaping now, but that didn't mean she was just going to lie there and let it happen.

_If I knee him hard enough, maybe..._

The thought trailed off as he turned his head to face her, eyes flaming.  
She opened her mouth to scream, to call for help, to _pray_ that this was a terrible nightmare and she was about to wake up. But no sound escaped from her muted lips. She could only stare, terrified beyond words.  
His face had been shredded apart, a gaping hole the only remnants of where his cheek had once been. Dark fleshy skin peeled away from his cheekbones, and as he grinned at her she caught a glimpse of his teeth through the mangled hole in his face.  
He-it- grabbed her shoulders and flung her onto the bed before climbing on after her.

"He wants it so bad...I can taste the desire." It was saying, climbing on top of her. "I can feel it in you, too. So much lust...I won't let it go to waste."

She tried to kick out at it, but it was no use. Her legs were pinned to the bed under its weight, its arms aiming for her wrists. Doing the only thing she could think, she jammed her hands into its face, pulling and ripping at whatever she could grab onto. And then it was screaming, his agonized yells filling her mind, forever embedded there. The sound of Orphen's agony, even though she knew that somehow this wasn't him, was almost too much to bear, and for a moment she felt herself letting go.

_It's not him, _she screamed at herself. _It's not him, It's not him, It's not him,_

"IT'S NOT HIM!" She screamed, wrenching her hands out of its mangled face and pushing with all her might.

It fell back, just enough for her to pull her legs free. Scrambling off the bed, she made a run for the door once more. She saw a sudden bright light form to her right, felt heat warming her skin. Her hand reached out, covered in dark red ooze. Closing around the knob, she pushed with all her might, throwing the door wide open. Diving out of the room, searing heat brushed against her legs. Seconds later there was an ear-splitting crash, and the whole room exploded behind her, throwing her forward. Crashing to the ground she felt a pattern of sticks slapping against her back before everything went dark.

* * *

_2 Days earlier..._

"Uh, Master?"

"Look, Cleao, I don't care how much you beg. I said no."

"But my sword broke after those bandits went after us and now I don't have anything to protect myself with! If you stupid sorcerers just did your jobs right we wouldn't be in this mess-"

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"

"Master, this is really important-"

"YOU HEARD ME YOU USELESS SORCEROR!"

"ONE MORE TIME?"

"YOU'RE A STUPID SELFISH PRICK WHO CAN ONLY THINK OF HIMSELF! WAS THAT CLEAR ENOUGH FOR YOU!?"

"Master, really, I think you should look-"

"THAT'S IT! YOU'RE CATCHING THE NEXT RIDE BACK TO TOTOKANTA! AND DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT WEASLING OUT OF IT!"

"OH PLEASE. MORE LIKE _YOU_ DON'T EVEN THINK OF _FOLLOWING_ ME!

"OH YEAH? WELL-Wait a sec. Where the hell are we? I thought we were headed to Mortala Village."

Majic sighed, waving the map between the two squawkers like a white flag. Once he caught their attention, he held it up so they could see it properly.  
"You see," he explained, gesturing to certain spots on the map as he spoke, "we started off here. To get to Mortala, we were supposed to follow this path until we saw this strange rock stat-"

"Where I broke my-"

"OH FOR GOD SAKE SHUT UP YOU STUPID BRAT!"

"Ahem. Statue. Then we were supposed to take a left through this sketchy looking forest, cross the bridge that overshadowed Jahila Pass and follow the road until we got to this freaky tree thing."

"Yeah, yeah, we did all that. Get to the good stuff."

"Right, well see how there are two paths going in what looks like the same direction right here?" Majic pointed to the freaky tree thing, where there were two seemingly similar paths going north. "Well, we were supposed to take the path on the left. But that was around the time Master said something about your cooking Cleao, and then you stormed off- taking the path to the right. We had to go find you before, well, _something_ bad happened, and by the time we caught up to you there was no going back."  
Majic sighed, rolling the map up carefully before addressing his two companions once more. "So, to put it simply...I have no idea where we are."

A rare moment of silence ensued as both Majic and Cleao watched Orphen's face slowly redden to match the colour of his bandana.

"Well, isn't this perfect. First I'm stuck with a spoiled wretch who does nothing but whine and attract trouble-"

"If you call me one more rude name so help me-"

"-and now I find out that my trusty apprentice-"

"Wow Master, a real compliment! I never-"

*WHAM!!*

"CAN'T EVEN READ A BLOODY MAP! I'M SURROUNDED BY IDIOTS!"

"Ow! All I did was tell the truth!"

"I WARNED YOU ORPHEN! LEKI!"

"No, Cleao! Wait 'til he lets go of me-"

"YOU STUPID BRAT DON'T YOU DARE-"

*KABOOOOOOM!!!*

"Ahhh. Now. Let's see if we can find us a nice hotel for the night, huh Leki?"

* * *

Tired, hungry and filthy, the trio trudged through various paths for the rest of the afternoon. The angry bantering that always seemed to push them faster through their journeys was non-existent, due in large part to the fact that Cleao was practically dead on her feet. Orphen had looked back twice to find her wobbling slowly behind them, every exhausted bone in her body determined not to show weakness. Still, he didn't want her to pass out and hurt herself- it would just waste more of their time. So, on his third glance, he heaved a sigh and trudged angrily over to her.

"Look, before you say it, I know I'm slowing us down," she mumbled, defeated by his disapproving glance. "My feet are just a little sore. I'll make it, don't worry."

Orphen glanced at her feet and groaned, internally smacking himself. He should've known she'd wear those stupid sandals. Her feet were red and swollen- it was a credit to her that she could walk at all. And why hadn't she complained? It usually took nothing to get that mouth working.

_She probably feels bad about blowing you up, _he thought grudgingly to himself. _Stupid brat.  
_  
"Come here," he sighed, eying her little companion warily. He wasn't going to like this stunt much more than she was. "Don't blow me up, or else," he mumbled darkly before heaving her onto his shoulders. If he had to piggy-back the girl to the next hotel, he would. There was no way he was going to let her walk anymore, and he was just too tired to heal her wounds.

"What are you-! Put me-! ...Ugh."  
After several steps, she'd given up arguing. She just didn't have the energy. Besides, it was almost comforting, being carried by Orphen. She knew she would always be safe in his arms, no matter how angry with her he was. Laying her head on his shoulder, she inhaled his scent, wanting to enjoy every minute she had with him. Soon, with the lulling sway of his step, she was fast asleep.  
Orphen trudged on, with Majic struggling to keep up with his suddenly insane speed. He was loving the feel of her warm body against his, her arms wrapped snugly around his neck. This way, he knew she was safe.

"How come you never carry me, Master? My feet hurt too, you know."

"It'll be more than just your feet if you don't quit complaining and get a move on." He growled, covering up the moment of tenderness. He didn't need Majic picking up on his feelings right now...  
It was odd. The kid always seemed to know what he was thinking. Especially when it came to Cleao.

"I'm just saying. Considering she doesn't carry half the stuff I do. You know..."

_Ah, he's not even listening. He's got Cleao to think about. I guess I can struggle for a few more hours. Besides, they do look really happy like that. Peaceful, almost. Hah. If I only had a camera..._

"Hurry up you pansy! I'm carrying twice your weight and I'm still beating you!"

"Uh, Master, I hope Cleao's still sleeping. If she heard you..."

"Yeah, yeah, quit stalling!"

"Alright, alright. Geez."

* * *

**-- ****Edited this chappie a bit; the paragraphs weren't really separated properly, which was causing some problems when reading it (skipping lines, confusion, etc. etc. xD)  
Hope I managed to clear all that up! Thanks again, GilShalos! **


	2. Chapter 2

**I have a review already!!!! *SQUEE!!!!*  
I'll tell you, that really made my day :P Thank you Kittie80!!!!!  
Okay so anyway, sorry this chappie took a little while xD Exams are this week, *cringe*  
It hasn't reached the, "OH! THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED!" part yet, but it's coming along pretty well  
if I do say so myself :P For those Hartia fans out there, he's got a pretty important role to play  
which will probably be introduced in the next chappie (when I have time to write that is anybody's guess XD)  
Alright, that's about it. Thanks for reading EVERYONE!!!!**

****

And before I forget: I don't own Orphen. If I did, I would make a third season. Or a movie. Or both. :P

* * *

_Chapter 2  
Present_

Cleao Everlasting opened her eyes slowly, squinting against the startling brightness. When the stars finally cleared from her vision, she took in her surroundings.

_Okay...Whatever I drank last night was definitely spiked..._

A vast sea of white surrounded her, stretching for what looked like forever in all directions. She wondered how long she'd been here, wherever that was. And why she couldn't quite remember how she'd gotten there. In fact, she couldn't really remember much. Falling asleep on Orphen's shoulders was the last recollection she had, and the harder she tried to remember, the more vague everything became. Was this a dream? Maybe she was still asleep.

"Well this is probably the most boring dream I've ever experienced," she mused aloud, staring around glumly. "There's nothing. No people, no places...I mean, for God's sake, at least put in some damn colour." As soon as the demand had escaped her lips, everything around her seemed to change. What was once cool stone floor was now soft and hot against her feet; she looked down and frowned. It was sand.

Staring at the floor, she took a step forward. And another. Huh. It almost felt...real. With a curious shrug, she shifted her gaze to look once more at the toneless white walls surrounding her. At least, they _used _to be white.  
A perfect blue sky greeted her, a soft warm breeze caressing her disbelieving face, tossing her hair gently about her shoulders. The sound of crashing waves caught her attention, and she turned to investigate. Once more she was astounded; the endless sea of white had been replaced by an _actual _sea.

"That explains the sand, I guess," she murmured to herself, awed. Who knew her imagination could be this good? And the _detail..._ The feel of the wind in her hair, the warmth of the sand between her toes...  
It was _marvellous._

"Do you like it?"

She jumped at the sound, spinning around sharply to face her unexpected visitor. All this spinning was making her dizzy. But she hadn't needed to turn to know who it was. She knew that voice better than any other sound in the world.  
Orphen was standing a few meters behind her, looking as if he was enjoying the view just as much as she. He wore an unbuttoned white dress shirt and black dress pants – squashing any stray thought of hers that this _wasn't_ a dream. The wind blew his shirt open to reveal his chiselled chest, his rock hard abdomen...

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" She hissed, shooting icy glares in his direction to cover up her drooling. "This is _my_ dream, and it just got interesting. Don't ruin it now!"

"First of all," he smirked slyly, walking across the sand toward her. Shit, he was _gorgeous, _his thick dark hair swaying in the wind, his dark, penetrating gaze sending a flush throughout every inch of her body. She noticed absently that he wasn't wearing his bandana, and that he looked so much different without it. She couldn't decide if she liked it or not. "There's no possible way I could ever ruin a dream of yours." He was close now, only a few feet away; she could smell him, her favourite scent in the whole world. Only, at first it smelled wrong, kind of gross, and she had the strangest wave of déjà vu. But as he got closer and she could really breathe him in, she changed her mind. Musky, woodsy...Just right. He was standing right in front of her now, his face inches from hers. Her heart was pounding in her chest, in her ears; she felt like she couldn't breathe. "And second," he murmured, bringing his face even closer to hers, "this isn't a dream."

She couldn't argue, she couldn't scoff. She could only stare at his lips, inches from her own, her heart hammering so hard in her chest she was sure it was going to pop right out of her.  
His hand came up, rough against her skin as he gently pulled her face to his, their lips closing the distance...  
_  
Cleao....  
_  
"Wha?"

She jerked away, the familiar voice reverberating inside her skull. Spinning around for the millionth time, she searched the ocean shore for the speaker. "Shrimpy, you just ruined the best moment EVER. Get your ASS out here RIGHT NOW!" she hollered in no specific direction, fuming. She couldn't even pretend to hope for such a thing to happen in real life. _Why_ did her dreams have to be interrupted?

_Cleao...You must awaken..._

"But I like this dream! I don't want to go yet!"

"I already told you, this _isn't_ a dream." Hands gripped her shoulders roughly, spinning her around to face him.

_**And then it was screaming, his agonized yells filling her mind, forever embedded there. The sound of Orphen's agony, even though she knew that somehow this wasn't him, was almost too much to bear, and for a moment she felt herself letting go.  
It's not him, she screamed at herself. It's not him, It's not him, It's not him,  
**__  
_"It's not you. It's not you! Get away from me!" She shouted, the memories suddenly starting to come back to her. The terror she'd felt when she'd ripped off its face-

_Fight it, Cleao...Wake up..._

"Let me out! LET ME OUT!" she thrashed in its arms, desperately trying to pull away.  
_  
__**Gotta get out gotta get out gotta get  
**_  
But this time it wasn't letting go. It tightened its hold on her, its fingers digging into her skin painfully. His- no, it _wasn't_ him – eyes darkened, black with rage, and she felt her feet lift off the ground.  
She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to wake up, to get the fuck out of this nightmare. But she couldn't. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn't waking up.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" It whispered in her ear, that familiar, putrid stench entering her nostrils, suffocating her. "This is no dream."  
It flung her away with excruciating force; she felt her body sail through the air, the wind whipping through her like shards of glass.  
_  
Hartia..._

She crashed into the ocean, the chilling water encompassing her as she sank lower and lower into its depths.

_Help me...  
_

_

* * *

  
2 nights earlier...  
_  
"We'll take two, please."

Orphen, still carrying a sleeping Cleao, stood with Majic at the front desk of some dingy hotel. In the dark of the night, they'd finally come across a run-down, cheap building that tried to pass itself off as homey. The old wooden walls weren't sanded down, with splinters and rusted nails sticking out here and there. The floor was coated in such a thick layer of dust, at first glance it looked like carpeting. And to top it all off, it was run by some creepy old guy with wandering hands- and eyes.

_If he looks at Cleao like that one more time...  
_  
"Right this way, fellas, hehehe," the owner wheezed, chuckling cheerfully to himself. Muttering darkly under his breath, Orphen trudged ahead, leaving Majic- as usual- to carry their baggage.  
"We don't get many customers, as you can probably see," the old man was saying, leading them down a short hallway. He moved slowly, hobbling toward the first of 3 doors on the right. "So I don't usually keep all of the rooms ready for guests. This one should be fine," he gestured to the now open room before hobbling down to the next door. "These are my quarters, so gimme a shout if you need anything." One more hobble and they'd reached the last door. "And this one is free as well." He glanced at the sleeping girl keenly, making Orphen's skin crawl. "It's got a more feminine touch to it, I'm sure she'll love it. Oh, and before I forget," he pointed to the two doors on the opposite walls. "The plumbing's been a little, well, broken for the last few days. I haven't really needed it, so I didn't bother fixing it up for any guests. We don't get them much, you see," he mentioned once more, scratching his head.

_Haven't needed to use the _bathroom? _What the hell _did_ he use?_

"There's a pond a few minutes into the forest, that way," he continued, gesturing to the west. "For all your hygiene necessities. And that's about it. I'll leave you to your rooms. Have a wonderful stay!"

Without another word, Orphen shuffled Cleao inside the 'feminine' room. It wasn't quite as dusty as the front foyer, and the bed looked comfortable enough. It would just have to do- besides, she'd been through worse. Making his way toward the bed, he started to shimmy Cleao off of his back and into his arms, trying carefully not to wake her as he lay her down. Pulling the covers over her still form, he watched her for a moment before turning to leave.  
Something glinted in the corner of his eye, and he turned to face what he thought had been an empty wall across from the bed.  
A nearly concealed door handle shone guiltily at him, revealing a door separating the owner's room and Cleao's.

"Feminine touch, my ass," he growled, a spell already forming on his lips. "I'll give your walls a nice finish, dirty perv-"

"Orphen..."

He turned around slowly, the bluish glow of the spell fading away. Glancing at the bed, for a moment he thought he'd woken her up; she'd spoken with such startling clarity. On a closer inspection, he realized she was just talking in her sleep. Something she did quite often these days.  
He had to admit, it was a cute habit- but also extremely infuriating. Especially when she said his name...  
Why it bothered him so much was beyond him, but whenever she called out in the night, saying his name, there'd always be a strange tightening in his stomach, like someone had socked him good. And then, she'd just shut up – the one time he actually _wanted_ her to talk – and he'd find himself restless. He would lie awake, watching the fire dance, the flames seeming so alive as they flickered, seamlessly blending into each other. Sometimes he would just give up on sleep altogether, going for walks through whatever area they'd decided to camp in. He'd try to clear his head, to get _her _voice out of it, through whatever means necessary. And it really wasn't working out for him. She was driving him absolutely _insane._  
She tossed about, a deep frown wrinkling her sleeping face. Eventually she heaved a long sigh before relaxing against the sheets.

"I guess blowing this place up will be our goodbye present," he sighed, heading over to her side. "But for now, we're making a little change in plans." Gently, he lifted her out from under the covers, slinging her carefully over his shoulders again. "I can't leave you in here by yourself." he murmured protectively. Her head lolled forward on his shoulder in silent agreement, her bangs falling over her closed lids. His hand reached out instinctively, wanting to brush them away. Hesitating for just a moment, he sighed, letting his hand drop back to her leg, keeping her steadily on his back.

_God, he was losing it.  
_  
Heading back to the room intended for him and Majic, for once she didn't utter a sound.

* * *

"So, you're going to sleep in the room attached to that handsy old man, and Cleao and I will stay here?"

Orphen had brought Cleao back to their room, plopped her maybe a wee bit too roughly – Majic had given him a horrified glance as she landed - onto one of the two cots, and started for the door. Now Majic was clarifying the new room arrangements, watching as Orphen grabbed his things and headed for the door. The two lanterns along the walls flickered, sending dark shapes scattering across his retreating form.

"You got a problem with that?"  
Apparently he hadn't noticed the panicky pitch to his apprentice's voice.  
Oh yes. He had a major problem with it.  
_  
_"Well, I was just thinking..."

Orphen leaned heavily against the open doorframe, his nightbag hanging lazily at his side. "Were you, now? And how long does that usually take?"

"Aha..hah...Well, Master, it's just..." he took a deep breath and exhaled, blurting out the first excuse he could think of as quickly as possible. "If you're so worried about that old guy doing something to Cleao then maybe you should just stay in here instead of me!"

He cringed in the silence that followed, waiting for the expected beating- whether verbally or physically, it didn't matter. Both were somehow equally painful. And worth getting a room away from Cleao, after _last_ time. Not that he'd ever bring it up. She'd been shooting him death-spewing glares since they'd left the damn hotel, and that'd been _days_ ago.  
After a few moments, he dared a peak at his master.  
Still leaning against the doorframe, Orphen was casually swinging his bag in and out of the room, a curiously amused expression on his face. Leki had climbed up to snuggle against his owner, watching the two men curiously through emerald eyes.  
Before Majic had time to summon up the courage to speak, a low chuckle rumbled from the sorcerer's chest.

"Waking up to find _you_ here, she'd probably beat you senseless after last time. That what you're worried about?"  
_  
_"Please Master," he begged, eying the sleeping girl with renowned horror. "She could kill me in my sleep. She could wake up and do it right now!" He blanched as she shifted in bed, looking for a moment like she might wake up.

* * *

_**Majic had been packing up his things, minding his own business when Cleao'd stormed into their room, having had the usual argument with Orphen. Trying to be as polite – and silent – as possible, he'd done his best to ignore her grumbling, keeping his back turned as he packed. Until, of course...**_

_****_

"Don't know where he gets off...And when the hell do I ever talk in my sleep? And about him, of all people. The nerve of him to even suggest it is just-"

Of course, being the easy-going guy that he was, Majic had started to chuckle. He should have known better.

"And what's so funny, Mister Chuckles?"

"It's just that, well, you talk in your sleep. A lot. Every night, actually. Pants go here, toothbrush there..."

She'd given him an angry glare, her eyes glinting furiously. "Oh really," she'd sneered, taking a haughty step toward him.

Of course, being the foolish teen that he was, Majic was still chuckling.

"And what, exactly, do I say during these lovely moments. Hmm?"

"Well, when it first started happening, we had no clue what you were mumbling about. But then you said something to make it all pretty obvious. There it is!" He'd exclaimed suddenly, snatching a stray sock, his conversation momentarily forgotten.

"Which was...?" She'd hinted through clenched teeth, her one eye starting to twitch dangerously as she continued to glare at him. It was as clear a warning as damn warning bells would've been.

Of course, Majic was still packing his things, having not bothered to glance in her direction as he spoke. Had he seen her expression, he'd have made something up. Or called Orphen for help. Or for God's sake, stopped chuckling like a moron.  
"It was actually really funny," he'd wheezed, now full - out laughing, folding his pajamas neatly before stacking them on top of the rest of his luggage. "How did you put it...I think it went...Oh, right: 'His eyes...So...dreamy...Hmmhh'. Really, the tone of voice, we were killing ourselves-"

"I said WHAT?!"

_**And that was around the time the chuckles had stopped. To be replaced by screams of terror.  
Cleao'd been waiting by the front door, ready to go, for a good twenty minutes before Orphen'd managed to untie him from the rafters.  
**_

_

* * *

_  
"You still haven't told me what you said to piss her off," Orphen commented, eying his apprentice curiously. "And damn, she was pissed. I mean, usually she just blows you up, but that time...Not that I'm complaining; one less hotel to rebuild is fine with me." But, considering the look of sheer terror still plastered on the boy's face, he imagined it was going to stay a secret. At least for now.

"...gifted torturer, that's what she is... hanging from the ceiling for half an hour...what kind of sweet girl thinks of _that_..."

Worrying about his possible demise being close at hand, Majic hadn't noticed Orphen drag himself slowly back into the room, set down his things and walk over to sit on the uninhabited bed.

"Alright, alright, get outta here. Before I change my mind." He muttered grumpily, breaking the teen's worried trance. After receiving a grateful look, followed by promises of hard work put towards his studies and their travelling, Majic finally finished gathering his things for the night. After one last expression of his gratitude, the young apprentice left, closing the door with a fateful thump.

_It's just you and me, kiddo,_ Orphen thought, glancing glumly at the still figure across the room from him and suddenly regretting his rare moment of generosity. _And the darling wolven, of course. _Glowing green eyes met his for a moment and he sighed.

"Relax, you little mut," he assured the pet, emptying his bag onto the bed. "I'm here to keep her safe, remember?"

Kicking off his boots, he glanced through the mess of clothing, trying to find what was most comfortable. Rummaging around for a moment, he pulled out a pair of dark slacks, decidedly more comfortable than his travel attire. Pulling off his pants, he quickly changed. He shrugged out of his vest and started to pull off his shirt – and stopped. He glanced Cleao's way once more, feeling uncharacteristically, well, modest. She'd probably freak if she found him without a shirt on, no matter the fact that he'd be in an entirely different bed.  
Thinking of her predictable reaction, he shed the shirt, dropping his things carelessly on the floor before blowing out the lamps, immersing the room in darkness. Shuffling to the wall furthest from the exit, he reached out, searching for curtains. His hands running against something soft, he silently pulled them open, moonlight illuminating the darkened room.

_Let her freak, _he thought angrily, finally climbing into bed. _It's her own fault I'm here anyway. Beating up Majic...God, she's a headache and a half. And she'd better not start talking again. Like I don't get enough of her while I'm awake..._

A soft whimper, almost inaudible, shattered his train of thought. He rolled to the side, his back to the window, and glared into the dark room. Scattered patches of moonlight illuminated a path across the floor, pooling at the foot of Cleao's bed.  
Just when he was beginning to think he'd imagined it, there it was again. A tiny moan of – was it fear? Sadness? He couldn't tell, but it was definitely her.

"Alright already, spit it out."

Silence. Of course, the one time he wants her to speak and she shuts up.

_Stubborn little-_

She bolted out of bed, a cry of despair popping out of her trembling lips. And she _was_ trembling; the pool of light shuddered as she let out another sniffle. Orphen hadn't moved from his position in the bed, lying on his side, his back to the window. Now he was watching her, slightly anxious, as she tried to muffle the growing sniffling. He started to sit up, open his mouth to say something.

_Was she alright? What the hell was she crying for?  
_  
A low growl rumbled from somewhere on the floor, distracting him. Green eyes flashed from the end of her bed, flying up to her face. She let out a pathetic sob, her voice thick with unshed tears, before scooping him into her arms.

"I'm sorry, Leki. I didn't mean to knock you over."

The wolven whimpered in response, and it sounded almost like a question. Was it...Could he be asking what was wrong?

_Shit. I guess they _are_ smart animals._

"Just a dream...Nothing to worry about..." She rasped half heartedly. As soon as she finished denying it, however, she sighed, shaking her head. "Oh, who am I kidding? You're too smart to buy that, aren't you?" He barked sharply, sitting up in her arms. As she stared at him, he started to whine, his ears flat against his head to show his worry. She pulled the wolf close to her chest, burying her face in his dark blue fur. "They started a few days ago. The nightmares. " She shuddered, and to Orphen she suddenly looked small, fragile. He had the overwhelming urge to cross the room and wrap his arms around her, tell her that everything was okay. That he would protect her, like he always did. It took all of his strength to stay in his bed and listen.

"It's always the same. I'm standing on a beach. Everyone's with me, and we're all just enjoying the time together, not having to worry about dragons or Heavenly Beings or sorcerers or runes... And then, it changes. Everyone starts...disappearing." The pup whimpered again, sticking his paw up to her face in a very _human_ gesture of comfort. She pet him absently, her mind far away. "I'm left alone on the beach. And eventually that goes, too; the water dries up, leaving a cracked desert behind. I wander it alone, trying to understand where everyone else went. Why I..." her voice cracked and she had to clear her throat several times before continuing. "Why I can't go with them. And then I wake up." And then the tears fell, her face shining wetly in the moonlight. Leki climbed up onto her shoulder, licking her cheeks in an attempt to wash them away. She stifled another sob, pulling him close to her. "You sweet little thing. What would I do without you?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She jumped, emitting a tiny squeak as Leki hopped calmly out of her lap, resting against her legs. Orphen sat up, his torso a silhouette against the moonlight. She stared at him, shocked, the tears still slowly falling from her big, sad eyes.

"Wha...How long were you awake?"

"Long enough." He growled, his dark eyes flashing. He hadn't meant to sound so vicious, his words sharp as knives in the darkness, but he was fucking _pissed off_. She'd been keeping this from him. And it wasn't even that; he understood that sometimes things were just too personal to share – hell, it'd taken him forever to finally open up about Azalie, hadn't it? No, that wasn't what pissed the shit out of him. It was the fact that she was carrying this massive weight on her shoulders and he _hadn't even goddamn noticed._ He'd bitched her out for slowing them down, for complaining, for doing fucking _anything_, and she'd just taken it. Sure, occasionally she'd blown him up, or called him names. But, he was realizing now, her heart just hadn't been in it. She'd been quiet, closed off. Waking up screaming in the middle of the night.

And he'd had no clue.

How was he supposed to protect her if he couldn't even tell when she needed his protection?

"I...I didn't think anyone needed to know." She tried to put some force behind her words, always trying to prove that she wasn't weak. Little did she know that she'd proven that to him long ago. The problem was, she wasn't invincible either. "I can take care of myself."

He glared at her, already opening his mouth to spew out some form of insult, when he stopped himself. She didn't need him to yell at her. She needed him to be her friend. He sighed, hopping agilely off of his bed and sitting beside her on hers. Disregarding the fact that he had no shirt on – and the fact that Leki was eying him dangerously- he put a hand gently on her shoulder, pulling her awkwardly against him.

"I'm your friend, Cleao. I need to know when things are bothering you. And don't even bother telling me you can deal with your own problems," he warned as she lifted her head, her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "I already know. I'm not here to make your problems go away for you. I'm here to help you do that for yourself."

She'd leaned back into him as he was talking, her damp forehead furrowing into the crevice by his neck. For a moment, neither of them spoke. It wasn't until she let out another sniffle that he realized she was crying again.

_You made her cry again. Nice. God you're a prick. _"Come on Cleao, don't cry. It's not your style, remember?"

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to keep it from you," she sniffled, ignoring his lame attempt to cheer her up. She pulled away from him, enough so that she could see his face. "I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it. It really isn't a big deal at all. In fact, it's a small deal. Tiny. Miniscule. Petite. Puny-"

"Okay, okay, I get it." He chuckled, mussing up her blonde hair affectionately. "To you, it's pretty small on the size scale." He wiped away the last remnants of her tears with his thumb, wishing desperately that they would be the last he'd ever cause her. "But to me," he whispered, almost too quietly for her to hear, "it's huge."

She rolled her eyes before giving him an indignant look. "Just can't agree with me on anything, can you?" But then she smiled, and he felt his spirits soar.

"As likely as that sounds," he grinned sheepishly at her knowing look, "that's not it at all."

"Then why?"

He looked at her for a moment, hesitating. He didn't know how to put it into words in a way that didn't sound like he was hitting on her. Because he wasn't. He didn't feel that way toward her. At all. Nope.

"Because I can't stand to see you cry." He admitted, staring her straight in the eye. "It..hurts me. When you're hurting." He finished lamely, shrugging his shoulders. He could pull off nonchalance better than anyone. Most of the time.

"So you're saying you care about me," she giggled, poking him in the ribs playfully. "That's probably the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Though that's not saying much, since you're probably the rudest, crudest person I know-"

He snagged one of the pillows off her bed and lightly bopped her over the head with it, ending her sentence for her with a sly grin. She stared at him in shock for a minute, before a similar smile spread across her own mouth. She grabbed her own pillow and wacked him *smack* across the face, giggling hysterically as he fell off the bed.

The rest of the night consisted of the two of them chasing each other around the room, pillows drawn threateningly. Eventually the pillows were forgotten; Orphen tackled her to the floor, encompassing her in his strong grasp. She laughed louder than ever, trying to squirm out of his grasp, and he simply rolled onto his back, steeling his arms against her back and pulling her on top of him. She eventually gave up the struggle, falling against him in hysterical giggles, and he chuckled, releasing his hold. But neither of them moved; they lay there together, her pressed against his bare chest, his arms wrapped protectively around her, until sleep eventually claimed them.

Tomorrow would be an interesting day, to say the least.

* * *

Good? Bad? Totally and completely lame? Let me know what you think!! :)  
*FnI*


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello again, everyone!**

****

So sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I've been busy with life, to be blunt about it XD  
I'll do my best to follow this chappie up soon, but I can't make a sure date for when #4 will be up.

**Just to make something a little clear, whenever I state the timeline for a current part of the chapters (ex. **_Several days earlier..._) **I'm referring to the present moment, that is, when Cleao is  
in the "Dreamworld". When I say "several days earlier," I mean several days before that moment.**

****

I hope that clears up any confusion. Sorry I didn't really explain that properly earlier..

Anyways, on with the chappie!

**FnI **

* * *

_Chapter 3_

_Several days earlier..._

"It can't be true. I refuse to believe that."

A young man, naive in appearance but quite the opposite in reality, stood in the high office at the Tower of Fang, dressed in the expected attire of the masters; navy flowing robes that fell past his feet, a silver talisman hanging from his neck.

A dragon ensnaring a cross.

He'd never quite understood the relevance of such a symbol. What did dragons have to do with fangs? Sorcery, he supposed, was believed to be passed down from certain bloodlines, descendants of the Dragon race. Maybe that was where they'd gotten the idea.

His right hand pressed angrily against the pane of the widespread window he faced, his back to the desk, purposely avoiding the all-knowing eyes of his comrade.

"I do not understand it either, but there is no mistaking it. While my visions are of only _possible_ outcomes to certain events, they are never wrong."

He scowled, his hand clenching into a fist, knuckles wracking against the cool glass.

"Forgive me for insinuating such. It's just...How could it be true? How could Krylancelo do such a thing?" He slammed his fist against the window in anger, letting loose an unconscious surge of energy strong enough to crack the glass; deep fractures marred the once smooth surface, the lines scarring his reflection in the pane.

"Hartia..."

"Please, Lai," disregarding the broken window, Hartia spun away to face his childhood friend. "Look again. Try to find something, _anything_ that could at least shed some light on the subject."

"I have tried, Hartia. But there's something...blocking my attempts. Each vision I have seems to become less and less detailed, less coherent, less-"

"Helpful," Hartia finished impatiently.

A spot of blood dripped onto the floor, momentarily distracting them both. Hartia raised his hand to his face, muttering a curse under his breath.

"The window. You must have injured yourself."

"I'll live." He turned back to the window, staring out at the darkening sky with a growing sense of foreboding. "Can you pinpoint Krylancelo's location yet?"

"This same fog seems to be concealing him from me. I have not been able to break through just yet."

"Keep trying, Lai. Please."

He glanced away from the window to look down at his hand, the sting becoming a distraction. He stared at it for a moment, the blood slowly oozing out of the open wound and hanging precariously from his skin before dropping to the floor below. This simple action, gravity working against other objects, set his mind slightly more at ease. It was something he understood, a tangible, provable fact of life. He'd always been bright when it came to physics and mathematic equations, theoretical inquiries. When it came to the physical aspect of things, that is, the actions, it was clear that he would only ever be second best.

According to Lai's vision, the one man who could truly challenge his own power, the best sorcerer the Tower had ever known, was going to do something terrible. Unforgivable. And, in Hartia's opinion, unbelievable.

But if it was true, he couldn't just sit by and let it happen. The girl, Cleao...They'd come to know each other fairly well over the past couple years. They were close friends; more than that, Hartia felt very fondly of her. Not _romantically_, exactly. She was like a sister to him, which seemed odd. Krylancelo, Azalie, Leticia, Lai...These were the people he had always seen as his family. Cleao was so much the opposite of them. And yet, he really did care for her like he did Azalie and Leticia. She was a sister to him. A sister he needed to watch out for, to protect.

Was she ever hard to keep safe, though. Damn. She always managed to find herself in the most impossible situations. Kidnapped by wolven hunters, dragons, sorcerers, anything you can think of it's happened to her. But she'd always been saved, usually just in time, but safe nonetheless. And he'd be damned if he failed her now.

The problem was, this time it was different. Much, much different.

How do you save someone from the one person who protects them the most?

A flash of lightning lit up the sky, bringing up a worrisome memory. A wise man once told him that lightning storms were often foreshadows to great battles. He'd claimed that the thunder mimicked the clashing of weapons, the lightning the spark between metals.

This may have seemed like silly superstitious nonsense, and as a child Hartia saw it that way. But with age came wisdom.

Besides, Rox Ro had never been wrong before.

* * *

_1 hour earlier...  
_  
"I envoke thee, blazing sun!"

A small string of smoke appeared above the leaf, swaying for a moment before blowing out completely.

Majic sighed in defeat, shoulders slumping heavily. His arms, which had moments ago been splayed out in front of him, dropped to his sides. Sweat plastered his hair to his head, dripped down his neck and soaked his shirt. Books were piled beside him, their open pages motionless in the non-existent wind. The sun was setting, thank God, taking the ridiculous heat with it.

He'd been out here almost all day, practicing this one darned spell. When he left the hotel, he'd told Cleao he was going to study some runes. It wasn't a lie, really. He had all the books around him and everything...He just didn't want to tell her he was practicing. She'd want to come, and then when he couldn't do the spells he was trying to learn, she'd be disappointed. He hated disappointing people...Especially Cleao. And Master...He _really_ hated to disappoint Orphen.

Maybe it would be cooler out tomorrow, and he could try again...

"Two years have gone by, and you still doubt yourself."

The stern voice behind him made Majic jump in surprise, before glumly turning to face his master. Looks like he hadn't avoided disappointment after all.

"I'm sorry, Master-"

"Don't apologize. Just concentrate. Believe you can do it. Know you can do it."

**_Don't forget just whose apprentice you are._**

The memory came back to him as clear as if it'd happened yesterday. It had been almost 2 years ago, when their search for Azalie was still under way. With Stephanie to guide them, the group had come to the Library of the Heavenly Beings. Cleao, being Cleao, had gotten them all in a big mess, and Majic had ended up using his first successful spell- and what a spell it had been. He'd been having trouble with his spells for a long time. Doubting himself. And Orphen had encouraged him, helping him realize that he really could do it. After all, look at who his master was.

And he wouldn't forget.

"Right."

He squared his shoulders, digging his feet firmly into the ground. He threw his arms out in front of him, aimed directly at the leaf. A single bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.

"See the spell. Visualize its effects in your mind. _Know_ what you're going to do. And then do it."

_I can do this. I can do this. I can do this!_

He saw the leaf exploding in flames, the ground scorched from the heat. He saw the flames twist and turn to his ever desire, grow larger and larger and then smother out at his command.

Behind him, Orphen felt the temperature in the air drop; He could see his breath in the suddenly chilled air. A smirk cracked his normally serious visage and he watched his apprentice carefully.

"I envoke thee, BLAZING SUN!"

He physically felt the power travel from his core, into his hands and out into the ground. Fire exploded from his fingertips, torching everything in his path. The heat, unbearable moments ago, engulfed him. But it felt almost spiritual. Like it wasn't really heating his body, but his mind. Flames licked at his skin, his clothing, and it felt _incredible_. Instead of burning him it felt soothing. Like someone had wrapped a warm blanket around his shoulders on a cold night.

But boy was it ever tiring!

After a few seconds, the flames began to shrink away, burning out until there was only smoke remaining. Exhausted but elated with his success, Majic spun around to look at Orphen.

"I did it, Master! I really did it!"

Orphen nodded his approval, noting the returning hot temperature.

"Nice job. Now let's get back to the hotel. I'm roasting in this damn heat."

Majic nodded quickly, a huge smile on his face. After gathering his books - and making sure all of the fire he'd made had been put out - the two of them started back for the hotel.

The path they chose was covered on all sides by large, leafy trees. It was growing darker, but the trees still managed to shield any travellers from the heat of the sun. As they walked in silence, Majic was thankful for their shade.

"Have I ever told you about absorption magic?"

Majic started at the sudden question. Orphen had seemed to be lost in thought, walking slightly ahead of his apprentice. This was usually the case; he really wasn't a very social person. So when he _did_ speak, it was a bit of a surprise.

"Um, no." He sifted through the lessons his master had taught, trying to recall anything on the subject. "I don't remember ever hearing about it. We were never taught anything about absorption at the tower, either..."

Orphen chuckled, kicking a stray rock from their path. "No, of course not. See, absorption magic is a bit of a dilemma with the tower." He turned to face his apprentice, an annoyed expression on his face. "They don't believe it exists."

"Huh...But, you do? I mean, I don't think you're wrong or anything...But..."

"How could something magical exist without the tower knowing about it, right?"

Majic nodded, a frown creasing his brow. "Yeah. They know just about everything on magic. Even the whole thing with Baltanders..." He paused for a minute, thinking about what he'd just said and almost laughing. "Well, actually, that's not true. They really didn't know anything about it. I mean, they were going to kill- Ah, sorry Master."

He knew that talking about Azalie still brought up dark feelings for Orphen. The fact that he'd saved her after all usually made up for it...But he'd been through so much pain in order to save her. Majic knew this from what he'd seen on their journeys together, but there was also the stuff that Orphen wouldn't even talk about. There was a darkness in his past that...Well, there are some things you can never fully recover from.

"They _think_ they know everything about magic," Orphen corrected, sliding over Majic's side topic with only a small wince to show just how much it still bothered him. "That's the problem."

Majic nodded in silence, watching as his master suddenly veered off the path and headed for the trees. He snagged several large leaves off their branches and tucked them into his belt before walking back to where Majic was standing.

"Pay close attention to your senses, alright? Everything; sound, touch, taste, the whole thing." After Majic had nodded his understanding, Orphen took a few steps back and held one of the leaves up by the tip.

"Fire."

The leaf burst into flames, which danced around for a moment before they were dismissed.

"Seemed like an ordinary enough spell, right? Now, let's do it again."

He grabbed another leave from the stash he'd made in his belt and held it up. Eying it with the same calm determination Orphen always possessed when doing demonstrations, he murmured the same incantation. But something had changed. Just before he cast the spell, Majic had felt something. The air...It had _changed_. The spell had also had a slightly different effect. Instead of a small, controllable flame, the leaf had literally exploded, the magical flames consuming it almost as soon as they appeared.

Orphen was watching him now, waiting to see if the pieces would come together.

"Master...Did you...You used the energy from the _environment_, didn't you? It made your spell stronger, too!"

"That's right. Did you notice the temperature change?"

Majic nodded wordlessly, awed. The tower had always taught them that their power came strictly from themselves, that it was their own core strength which allowed them to wield it. The idea that the environment could help that power...It was exciting, to put it lightly.

"I don't understand. If it's so easy to demonstrate, then why doesn't the tower believe it?"

"Because it's not easy to demonstrate at all. Not everyone can perceive the temperature change. In fact, for those who don't possess the absorption ability, the change doesn't even occur."

"But.. How is that possible?"

Now they were walking again, albeit at a slow pace. Orphen ran a hand through his hair subconsciously, his eyes looking ahead but his mind far inside his own thoughts.

"It's my theory that because these sorcerers have the ability to absorb energies from the environment, they always have a unique sense for it. It's like there's a whole different layer to this energy, one that only those few can recognize. When you absorb that layer, the people who can't even register it to begin with won't notice when it's gone."

"I see...But why can some sorcerers feel this layer and not others?"

"That's a good question. Honestly, I don't really have a clue. I've only met two people who've been able to do it. Including you."

"Oh...Huh? But how did you know I would be able to do it?"

"Do you remember your very first spell? Back in the crystal library?"

Majic almost laughed at the odd coincidence. He hadn't thought about it much since, and here it was now, twice in one day. "Yeah. What about it?"

"When you used the ice spell, I felt it. I felt you take in the cold energy in the air. And that spell was extremely powerful, especially for a first one. Still, I wasn't positive about it until today."

Majic mulled that over in his head. He tried to remember if he'd felt anything special about the spell...Aside from the fact that it had been his first, he really couldn't recall anything out of the order. Then again, he didn't know what it felt like to use a spell without the environment, since he'd apparently always done it.

"So, today, with my fire spell..."

Orphen nodded, ruffling his apprentice's hair. "Yup. That was a kickass incant."

Majic smiled, enjoying the rare praise. Just like Orphen didn't talk much, he wasn't quick to cheer for anything. So when he _did_ praise you for something, it meant that something was really well done. Trying vainly to smooth back his hair, Majic thought about what they'd discussed. And, naturally, came up with another question.

"You said you knew two people? Including me." Orphen nodded, his face turning slightly more guarded. Majic didn't seem to notice. "Who was the other sorcerer?"

Orphen was silent for so long, Majic began to wonder if he would answer at all. Maybe it was a sensitive topic. Maybe it had been Azalie...Maybe he shouldn't have asked at all. Maybe-

"Ro. Uh, sorry, Rox Ro."

Ah. That explained it.

**_Ro! I don't know! I have no fucking idea! Tell me! Tell me what I'm supposed to do! RO!_**

**_Orphen, for God's sake, stop! He's _dead!**

Majic remembered the old man fairly well. Well, he remembered that when they'd finally gotten to his house, the man had been at death's door. Azalie, disguised as Childman, had attacked him. Orphen had only a few minutes left before he'd died. He didn't talk about it much, but Majic knew the two of them had been close. He was pretty sure Rox Ro had been a huge mentor to Orphen. It must have hurt very much when he...died.

"...I see..." He knew it was lame, but what was he supposed to say? I'm sorry? Somehow, he didn't think Orphen would appreciate that. It would probably just annoy him.

"Don't worry about it, Majic," Orphen said. Apparently Majic wasn't very good at keeping his emotions secret.

They walked along in silence once more. They were closing in on the inn now; it was only a few metres from where they were walking. It would be nice to have a warm bed to sleep in tonight. And he was going to enjoy it. Who knew when they would see an inn again? Even a hotel with a creepy old man was better than the hard, cold ground. Which reminded him...

"Hey, Master?" Majic asked tentatively. Orphen's moods changed faster than you'd think was normal, so one always had to be on their guard.

"Hm?" Clearly he was distracted by something. Definitely a good thing, for Majic's sake.

"Did something happen last night? Between you and Cleao, I mean." Suddenly this didn't seem like the best idea. Asking Orphen anything remotely personal usually led to a punch, but Majic was _just too_ curious sometimes. So, when Orphen didn't answer, and despite his nervousness, he pushed._ "_Because, well, because this morning the two of you were acting...Odd. I mean, civilized. Polite. _Nice._ Which is, you know, weird. Between the two of you." Stammering was always inevitable when talking about Cleao. Of course, it was usually because Orphen was pissed off at her for doing something, or Majic was about to tell him that she was missing. This time, it was a little different.

"Huh. Really. I didn't notice."

And that was it. That was all he said on the matter. No punching, no yelling, no incanting. Just a grunt followed by a useless answer. Well, clearly something had taken place between them. Maybe Cleao would tell him. He would just have to ask her when-

His thoughts were cut off by a huge explosion that shook the earth and knocked him clear over. Majic raised his head in alarm, searching for what had caused such a shock. He didn't have to look far.

The inn was in shambles. One of the walls had been blown clean off; it had broken into millions of pieces of wood and brick, sailing through the air like arrows before landing several metres away. Some pieces managed to hit him, prickling his back and cutting his face and outstretched arms. The other walls were keeling inward, having nothing to hold them up. The disturbing crunch that echoed their collapse was sickening.

_Oh my God...What if Cleao was in there..._

"Fuck!" Orphen spat, already taking off in the building's direction. Majic scrambled to his feet, the momentary daze having passed, and hurried after his master.

Just as they reached the wreckage, a small blue light appeared in front of them. A dark figure appeared, his unmistakable red hair standing out against the white rubble.

"God damnit! I'm too late. No, but Lai said she survived..."

"Shrimp man? What are you doing here?"

Hartia turned around in surprise, clearly thinking he was alone. His eyes flickered over Majic, recognizing him briefly before turning his gaze on Orphen.

"Hartia? What the fuck are you-"

"You BASTARD!"

Before Majic could react, Hartia literally _threw_ himself at Orphen, fists aiming for a hit to his face. Orphen, though clearly surprised, managed to dodge him easily enough.

"I don't have time for your games, Hartia. Cleao could be in that fucking mess."

"Don't you know it, you sick fuck!" Hartia tried again, dashing at Orphen with a fury Majic had never seen before in his eyes. Majic had never heard him swear so obscenely.

This time Orphen didn't completely dodge him; they fell to the floor and grappled with each other, Hartia looking like he really did want to kill him. Amidst the squirming, Majic heard Orphen shouting to him.

"Get Cleao out! Now!"

Hesitating just for a moment, Majic nodded. He dropped his bag and dashed for the building, praying that she was somehow unscathed.

Meanwhile, the two sorcerers continued to fist fight each other. Punches connected with faces, ribs were cracked, and blood was shed before Orphen inevitably managed to gain the upper hand. He managed to get onto Hartia's back, pushing him into the ground with his knees while pulling one arm up toward him with his arms.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" He hissed, slightly out of breath. He could feel Hartia's chest heaving underneath him. He'd always been the weaker brawler, more brains than brawn. Which only further confused Orphen about what he was trying to do.

"You thought..I would just let you...Get away with it?" Hartia wheezed underneath him, still visibly shaking with rage. "Not...a goddamn...chance..."

"I don't know what you're talking about you fucking idiot!"

"I just...don't understand...why you would...do it.."

"DO WHAT?" This idiot was wasting his time. Cleao needed his help. Fuck, if she'd been in there when it happened...His chest tightened in panic, his stomach dropped and for a moment he thought he might actually puke. All over Hartia. Well, it wouldn't have been such a bad thing.

But Hartia had relaxed underneath him. He stopped resisting, his breathing slowly coming back to normal levels.

"Do you mean to tell me," he mumbled, his face pressed into the damp grass, "that you really don't know?"

Honestly. Orphen really could've killed him.

"How many fucking times do I have to tell you that? Christ!"

"I knew Lai was wrong! But..That doesn't make any sense..."

"Fuck this."

Orphen dropped Hartia's hand and rolled agilely to his feet. He couldn't afford to wait for Hartia to get his act together; Cleao could be in serious shit.

Running to the building as fast as his legs would take him, he saw Majic kneeling beside a chunk of fallen wall. He was saying something, tears streaming down his face. Orphen's heart froze in his chest, his blood ran cold.

A spill of blond hair could be seen from under the wall.

"No...No..." He couldn't breath. Dots splayed across his vision, his legs gave way and he fell to the ground. He had to get to her. He had to help her. He tried to get up. He stumbled towards Majic, his legs feeling like lead beneath him. After what felt like years, he managed to reach them. He fell to his knees beside Majic, who was holding a small, pale hand, whispering to her that everything was going to be all right, that master was coming...

The wall had landed on her back, pinning her against the ground. Everything above her shoulders and below her knees was visible. Without thinking, Orphen reached up and stuck his fingers to her neck. And waited.

_Please...Please..._

The thud against his fingers finally came, if not in its weakest possible form. He wanted to scream, to cry, he couldn't believe it. She was alive.

Majic was saying something to him, asking him what they should do, how they could help her, if he could feel her pulse.

"She's...She's alive..." He managed, his voice coming out cracked and low, barely louder than a whisper.

Barely.

"We have to lift this off-" Majic was saying, but Orphen was already on it. He didn't know if he'd used magic or if it was just sheer adrenaline, but the wall was off in a matter of seconds.

Anxiously he scanned her bruised back, searching for any signs of spinal damage. He carefully ran his fingers down her spine, feeling for any stray bumps or cracks. Finding nothing except bruises and cuts, he turned his attention to the back of her neck. Again finding nothing out of the ordinary, a wave of relief flowed through him, leaving him feeling almost giddy. He hadn't a clue as to how she'd managed to avoid some kind of spinal injury, but he wasn't about to question her good fortune. Slowly, he rolled her onto her back, making sure to be as gentle as possible.

He should have been prepared for what he saw. Hell, she'd just been in a goddamn _explosion_. But somehow, nothing really could have lessened the impact of seeing just how serious her injuries were.

The first thing he noticed was the blood. It was everywhere. Her chest was bathed in it, cuts and scratches marring her torso, her stomach. Her arms hadn't escaped injury either; he could see pieces of wood sticking out here and there, the impact from the explosion shooting them like daggers into her fragile flesh, no doubt. Her hair, normally impossibly clean despite the messes they got themselves into, was almost harder to look at than her actual injuries. Blood soaked into the thin blond strands, leaving it with an almost coppery gleam. She'd always taken pride in cleanliness. If she could see herself now...She'd probably have a heart attack. Instead of making him laugh, the thought only made Orphen feel violently ill.

He turned his gaze to her face, watching anxiously for any signs of consciousness. Even this part of her body hadn't avoided damage; a jagged wound sliced across her left cheek, oozing more blood than seemed realistic. Her bottom lip was split and swollen, her cheeks bruised. He opened her eyes gently, pulling back the lids with his fingers, but she didn't respond. He tapped her cheek lightly, murmured her name over and fucking over again, but she wouldn't wake up.

"She needs a healer,"

Hartia had appeared on the opposite side of her at some point during Orphen's assessment of her injuries. He'd been too busy, too panicked to notice.

"No shit," he murmured darkly, the spell already forming on his lips. He held his hands above her chest, a light blue hew emitting from his fingertips.

Nothing happened.

He tried again, a hard edge to his voice, the spell whipping out of his mouth furiously, but to no avail. The wounds remained open, the bruises just as dark and damaged as before.

"What..what does it mean, Master?"

_The fuck if I know._

Hartia cleared his throat, somewhat wearily.

"I may be able to shed some light on the situation. More or less. It would explain why I...well, it will make my behaviour more understandable, at the very least. But...You're not going to like it."

Didn't Hartia ever appear _without_ some form of disastrous news? Fuck. The guy was a heavy scythe and dark, flowing cloak away from being the damn Grim Reaper.

Scratch that. He _had_ all of those things. Plus a bloody bow.

This situation was just getting more and more fucked up by the minute.

* * *

**Hope this meets any and all expectations. Let me know what you think! :)**

**FnI **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! As promised, here's Chappie #4! Special thanks to GilShalos for all of your amazing reviews, and for your continuous support! :)  
Enjoy! **

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Chapter 4

The first thing she was aware of was the heat.

A ray of warmth seemed to envelop her from above. A soft glow pierced her closed eyelids, an orange-red hue she easily recognized as sunlight.

The warmth at her back was different. Solid, smooth...But also grainy. She could feel it move as she began to fidget around, rubbing against her skin. Sand.

Cleao loved the beach; the feel of sand between her toes, the gentle caress of the sun, and who could forget the ocean with its crystal water, an endless sea of blue. She'd often thought about going on a little trip there, but somehow she couldn't picture Orphen going along with that idea.

Any other time, she would have been ecstatic. But this...This was a dream. A _nightmare. _A nightmare she just couldn't seem to wake up from.

Cleao opened her eyes slowly, not quite sure she wanted to know what was awaiting her.

"Why am I still here..." She murmured to herself, staring up at the empty blue sky. She stood up slowly, the sand sprinkling dustily off her clothing and hair with the movement.

Blue, again. It surrounded her, taunting her with its freedom. Everywhere she looked, she was reminded of just how trapped she really was.

Despair seemed to come at her from all angles; she didn't know what to do. She'd tried everything, and only ended up back on this godforsaken beach. She couldn't do this alone, she needed someone, she needed _him._

But he wasn't coming.

Somewhere, deep in her heart, Cleao could feel the truth in this realization. She was trapped here with that _thing_, and no one, not even Orphen could reach her.

She was on her own.

"What am I supposed to do..." she whispered to herself, feeling a single tear trickle down her cheek. She fell to her knees, her hands digging into the ground and bringing up fistfuls of sand.

Sand, sand, sand, blue, blue, blue. She couldn't take it anymore.

"WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!"

* * *

"You're saying a _demon_ did this?"

Hartia nodded, the gesture directed at the young apprentice, but his eyes remained fixed on Krylancelo. The man hadn't moved from Cleao's side throughout the entire explanation he'd given. He'd given up on healing runes, as they clearly had no affect on any of her injuries, but he continued to check the status of her health. He monitored her breathing as well as her heart rate, and had managed to bandage her visible wounds with the little supplies they'd brought along their travels.

"Not just any demon," Hartia sighed heavily, turning away from his friend and facing the anxious apprentice.

His head ached, most likely due to the brawl with Krylancelo, and the slightest movement seemed to magnify the pain. And what a fool he had been, to fight his friend. Not only did Krylancelo by far outmatch his own strength, but he also clearly couldn't have hurt Cleao, especially not in the way Lai had forseen. Hartia had been a great fool not to have realized that there was some other force at work. If he'd been faster to figure things out, maybe he could have protected her himself. Maybe he could have prevented this entire disaster...

Yes, his head ached.

"It's something much more powerful. A demon I've never even encountered, only heard legends about..."

"A Siren."

Both Majic and Hartia jumped. Orphen was leaning over Cleao, his hands running quickly through her hair, picking out something too small for either of them to see. "It's salt." He held it out for Hartia to inspect. He didn't evaluate his statement, but Hartia seemed to understand.

"That would explain why your spells haven't been working. And it would also explain why she seems to be trapped in some sort of unconscious state." Hundreds of thoughts flashed through his mind at once, trying to piece evidence together, trying to find a way to get them all out of this mess. "Sirens are said to appear on the shores of beaches. They live in salt water, oceans. It's the only way for them to survive. Or so the legend goes."

"Siren..." Majic murmured to himself, staring at his master intently. "I don't know a thing about sirens, Master, except that they're supposed to play off the desires of humans, often leading them to...their deaths," he choked out the last word, horror-struck. He rushed over to Cleao's side, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her with more force than was necessary.

"Wake up, wake up!" He screamed, panic striken, tears blurring his vision. He couldn't lose her, not now, not like this. She was his sister, his friend, his travelling companion. The three of them had been through so much together. It couldn't end now.

Not like this.

Strong hands closed gently on his wrists, and he released his hold on her shoulders. She slumped back to the ground, just as motionless, just as empty of life as before.

Majic was visibly shaking, his breath coming in quick gulps, his teeth clattering together noisily as more heavy tears fell. Hartia removed his cloak and wrapped it firmly around the boy, securing it to his shoulders before kneeling quietly next to him.

"We're going to get her out of this, Majic." He reassured the young apprentice, placing a hand comfortingly on his shaky shoulder. "I promise you, she will make it through."

"I...I don't know what to do..." Majic cried out in despair. "I don't know how to help her. I can't bear to see her like this, but _I_ _don't know how to help her_."

"We have to find the source of its power." Orphen slowly rose to his feet, turning away from them. He scanned the wreckage surrounding them, searching for some sort of clue. "Whatever it was, it didn't seem too worried about this place. It must not be here..."

Majic's desperate sobs slowed, the tears finally clearing from his eyes. He stared determinedly at Cleao, taking in every cut, every injury she suffered. He would find this thing, and make it _pay._

"It can't be far." Hartia offered, also rising. He, too, searched his surroundings, hoping for something to catch his eye. "Sirens may be powerful influencers, but they have little control over enchanted objects. It would have to be close enough to keep up the spell."

"If that's true," Majic piped up suddenly, a sudden idea forming in his mind, "why don't we just take her away from here? Master Hartia, you could port her back to the tower with you. She wouldn't be near the totem, or whatever-"

"-_No!"_

Orphen spun around, eyes flashing dangerously, feet digging deep into the earth. Majic stared up at him from the ground, completely dumbfounded. He could see that Orphen was visibly shaking, his breath coming in quick gasps. If he didn't know any better, Majic would say he looked...panicked.

"Why not..?" He asked, his voice sounding small and frightened even to his own ears. Orphen closed his eyes and inhaled, taking a deep breath. He stayed that way for a long time, silently calming his breathing. Finally, he spoke.

"Cleao...If she were to leave the range of this thing's power..." His eyes still closed, he swiped a hand heavily across his face. A low, defeated sigh escaped his lips. "We would only be moving her body."

"Oh my god..." Hartia muttered, his face blanching.

Majic was still confused. He looked from his master to Hartia, awaiting some sort of clarification. "I still don't understand..." He admitted, his ears turning slightly pink. Leave it to him to waste time on explanations while Cleao was in trouble. He should've stayed in school...

"Her _mind _would still be caught in the Siren's trap." Orphen explained, his face revealing nothing. His eyes remained shut. "Doing that to someone, separating their mind from their body..." His voice cracked and he ran his hand across his face again. Clearing his throat, he continued. "Not only would it be painful, _excruciatingly _so_, _it would rip her conscience to shreds. She would become a shell of her former self, mindless, numb to the world. An empty vessel."

"So...What do we do?"

Hartia cleared his throat, stepping forward. "We reach into her mind and bring her back to reality. Extremely dangerous? Yes. But we don't really have a lot of options."

Orphen's eyes had flashed open at Hartia's proposal. He glared at his friend, hands closing into fists at his sides.

"It's the only way, Krylancelo." Hartia spoke softly, his eyes reflecting the pain that Orphen felt.

"_Fuck!_" Orphen spat, turning away from them again. He held his arm out and fired a spell. A red orb shot out of his palm and sailed into the forest. Moments later it exploded, sending dirt, branches and stray rocks flying.

"Look, I don't want to do it either!" Hartia hissed, his hands splayed out at his sides in frustration. "But it's _the only way. _We _have_ to do this."

Shoulders heaving, Orphen slowly turned to face them once more. His face set in grim determination, he nodded once and strode to where Cleao lay.

"Then let's get this damn thing over with."

* * *

**:) Sorry it's kind of short... I hope you guys still liked it! Let me know what you think! **

**FnI**


	5. Chapter 5

**_Hey y'all!_**

Heehee, it's finally here! Chapter 5! :P Sorry this has taken so long, and that it's so short...Hopefully it'll appease you guys until the next time I get the chance to write :P  
For the Supernatural fans out there, I'm still working on my other things; I know I'm pretty far behind on the WOWs, but I'll work on catching up ASAP!

Thanks to everyone who's still reading this fic. All of your reviews have kept me working at it, whenever I can find the time!

...Timmies is my new best friend. Heehee. *slurps some of her Mocha Iced Capp -that's right, MOCHA!*  


**_Anywho...Enjoy!_**

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Chapter 5

The spell was very time consuming.

Majic sat and waited, anxious gaze flitting between his two superiors as they continued to hover over Cleao. Their voices were low, murmurings of some sort of spell. He wasn't familiar with the incantations; they were in a language he'd never heard of before.

It was strange, hearing their voices twist and curve to form words of something he couldn't understand. He focussed on listening to these strange sounds, watched their expressions for any sign of progress. Every now and then, a glint of annoyance would flash across Orphen's face, his eyes snapping open to glare at Hartia, his hands clencing into fists where they lay on Cleao's stomach. Majic took this as a sign that the spell wasn't working, and as they continued to repeat the same steady flow of actions, his heart grew tighter and tighter in his chest, his breathing becoming shallower and shallower.

_Please let it work. Please..._

What felt like minutes became hours, the darkness of night soon giving way to the sun's rising light. The sky slowly brightened, a red tinge spreading across its endless surface. They pressed on, their efforts seemingly to no avail.

How had this happened? Why had things changed so drastically since their arrival at this damned inn?

Majic thought back to the previous day; nothing seemed out of the ordinary to him. Aside from the seemingly friendly relationship Master and Cleao had formed. But, as odd as it was to see the two of them acting civil toward each other, Majic could accept it. He had known for a long time that both of them harboured deeper feelings for each other...But Master had always shut them out. He'd locked his heart away, in an armoured box, no doubt. As their journey brought them closer to saving Azalie, they grew closer themselves. There were chinks in his armour, and there were times when he shared part of his feelings with the others. Majic believed that Cleao was the one to draw such things out of him; Sure, she could be annoying as hell, and stubborn to boot. But she was also very compassionate. When Orphen was at his darkest, she comforted him the best she could. The first time he'd ever really opened up to them, it had been because of her.

So, yes, it was odd to see the two of them acting so...kind to one another on a daily basis, but not because they _couldn't_ be civil. Because Orphen always broke away from their friendship, always returned to that dark, brooding mask he wore oh so well.

So what had happened to change that?

His gaze drifted between his two friends; Orphen, stone-faced, concentrated. Cleao, silent...so damn silent.

If he was ever going to get any answers, he would have to start asking for them.

* * *

"Do you want to know why you're here?"

The sudden voice startled her, snapping her out of her hopeless attempt at forming yet another escape plan.

"I don't care _why _I'm here," she snapped, arms folded across her chest, one foot tapping the sand impatiently. "All I care about is _how _to leave!"

Apparently Hartia had given up on her; She hadn't heard his voice in...well, a long time. It was hard to keep track of time here. The sun never moved from it's spot high on the horizon and she'd passed out too many times to really have any clue.

Who would've thought she'd miss Shrimp Man, of all people?

Truth be told, being stranded on an island for an extended period of time was getting her thinking. There were a lot of people she hadn't really thought about recently. A lot of people she missed.

Her mother and sister, obviously. It seemed like ages since the last time she'd even sent a letter to them. When had she seen them last? She couldn't remember.

Then there was Licorice; that girl had truly become a younger sister to her. And it had been nice to have a female companion, someone she could really open up to without feeling foolish. And, of course, there were some things that men just didn't understand.

Cleao even missed her hometown, her old school friends, her boarding school, fencing lessons…

She'd taken all of these things for granted, and now it was too late to fix it.

"There's something I want to know." She turned to face the monster, ignoring the momentary hope that always bubbled up when she saw _his _face.

It was looking at her curiously, Its mouth twitching slightly at the corners, as if fighting a smile.

"Oh?" It questioned, tilting Its head to the side. "And what might that be?"

"Why do you have to be so evil?" She demanded, completely serious. "Does trapping people in your makeshift dreams really make you feel better about yourself?"

At first, It just looked at her, that same expression of interest on Its face. And then It spoke.

"Evil? You would call my survival evil?" It asked. "Is a shark evil for eating another animal?" It stood quite still, eying her expectantly. "Well?"

"Sharks don't play with their food. At least they show mercy."

It snorted, shaking Its head in humorous disbelief. "And you believe that I show no mercy, is that it?"

"You've had me trapped on this island for -I don't even know how long!" She stormed, gesturing wildly around her. Long blonde tendrils of hair whipped across her face. "If you were capable of even the slightest mercy, you'd kill me and put me out of my frigging misery already!"

The Orphen-clone chuckled, ruby eyes flashing dangerously. "But you don't want do die."

"Of COURSE not!" She screamed, tears of anger pricking the corners of her eyelids. "No one in their right mind _actually _wants to die." She watched the clone for a moment, the rage slowly dying away, buried by the never-ended despair this place brought over her. "There's so much I haven't done yet," she sighed, "so many things I still have to say…"

The humour in Its eyes was gone now.

"Don't you see," It said, moving to stand right in front of her, "that I've saved you from a world of pain?" It reached out a hand, ignoring her violent flinch, and touched her temple. "There's so much violence, so much pain in your memories." It murmured, a faraway look in Its eyes. "Loneliness. You long for someone to understand you, love you. Someone to bring joy instead of suffering. But you have found no such person." It slowly pulled back Its hand, taking several steps back. "In this world_, _my world, this pain doesn't exist." It gestured widely around It, to the ocean, the sand, the endless blue sky. "Here, I can give you whatever you want. I can grant your every wish, fulfill your every desire."

"And in return, you suck out my soul." She stated, not quite as viciously as she'd intended. She was still recovering; the close contact had unnerved her. She'd thought for a moment that It might actually kill her after all.

"A bit of an extreme description, no?" It smiled, lowering Its arms. "I'm not going to suck out your soul."

"What, then? Turn my brain to jelly?"

"Really, your lack of imagination astounds me." It chuckled again, running a hand through Its hair almost lazily. "You think I'm some sort of crazed scientist, now? Quite the contrary."

It was odd, talking to a monster so calmly about her impending demise. But, somehow, it didn't seem to bother her. Unless the thing came close to her, that is.

But she did want answers. And, apparently, now was the time to ask for them.

"I don't know _what _you are." She stated bluntly, surprised at her own honesty.

_I guess it's true what they say about kidnappers and their captives…_

"Ah, you're a curious one, aren't you?" It moved closer to her, kicking up the sand with each slow step. "I have a proposition for you, then. Mutual gain."

Every sane part of her body was telling her to run, _right now_, and not look back. This thing had very nearly killed her several times over, not to mention the _other _form of assault…

But, somehow, she was drawn to It. There was something…. She couldn't quite wrap her mind around it, but she _needed _to know more. After all, it would probably be the last time she would ever hear Orphen's voice. Even if It wasn't really him, she couldn't pass the opportunity up. She was going to die here, either way. Why not have some form of happiness, however small or shallow, while she could?

"Alright…?" She said, though it sounded like a question. She took a small step forward before slowly lowering herself into a sitting position. She watched cautiously as the thing mirrored her movement.

It still amazed her how much like the real Orphen It was; every movement held that cocky edge Orphen had portrayed almost lazily.

"For every question of yours that I answer," It explained slowly, amber eyes sparkling in the sunlight, "you must answer one of mine. A fair trade, no?"

"...I suppose," she mumbled, distracted when a sudden gust of wind tousled Its hair, the dark tips fluttering lightly, his shirt flapping open once more.

It's_ shirt_. _It. Not him..._

"Very well," It nodded, leaning back casually, giving her a nicer view of its torso. "You may go first, if you wish."

She nodded, snapping out of her momentary daze. Her head was feeling heavy, her thoughts slightly jumbled up. Clearly this place was beginning to have a more physical effect on her.

Great.

"My first question is…" she thought for a minute, trying to think of something that would reveal some important information. "What are you?"

The creature snorted, clearly unimpressed. "That's not a very original question."

She lifted her chin proudly, refusing to fall prey to more teasing. "That's my question. You can either answer it or forget about this stupid deal."

It raised an eyebrow, though the smirk still remained. "You're a fierce little thing, aren't you? Very well, if you wish for such a dull question as this to be answered. I am what is most commonly known as a Siren. Some refer to our kind as Desire Demons, which _does _put us in quite a better light. But, alas, beggars cannot be choosers."

She blinked.

The Siren did not move.

"...Shouldn't you have a giant fin instead of feet?" She demanded, eying It curiously.

"Ah, ah," the demon tutted, wagging its finger tauntingly. "It's my turn now."

* * *

"_Damnit!" _Hartia suddenly hissed, his hands flinching away from Cleao's face. He held them up and cursed, a grimace of pain shadowing his expression. "I'm getting further and further away from her," he muttered, quickly healing the burns from his fingertips. "The Siren must be deflecting the spell...That would explain the backfire."

Orphen hadn't moved; he knelt next to Cleao, his eyes frozen on her face. A darkening crease to his brow was the only evidence that he'd been listening at all.

"I'll do it," he said, moving to Hartia's original position. "We both know who the more powerful sorcerer here is."

"But Krylancelo-"

"-I can handle it just fine. Now get over here and help me."

Majic had been wondering why his master hadn't taken the lead position for the spell to begin with. Not wanting to interrupt or be a bother, he hadn't said anything. Apparently he was about to find out.

"It's too personal for you. If you go in too far…" Hartia shook his head, his hands clenching into fists. "No. I won't risk your life as well."

"Fine." He snapped, his voice cold and cruel. "Majic, take that position there." He jutted his chin toward where he'd been kneeling earlier, already beginning a spell. Majic stumbled over to his other side, numbly laying his hands on Cleao's stomach. She felt so cold, so…

No, he wouldn't say it. Couldn't.

"Are _you insane_?" Hartia shouted. "Do you realize the magnitude of this spell? He's just an apprentice, it could kill him-"

"-I'm not giving up." There was a raw, desperate edge to his voice. " Majic," he said, catching his eye, "if you can't handle it, step back. I'll do it alone."

For a moment, Majic wanted to give up. He wasn't strong enough, wasn't nearly as powerful as either sorcerers here. There was no way he could ever help his master now….

But instead, he shook his head. Steadied his shaking hands.

"Don't you remember?" His voice, amazingly, came out strong, without wavering. "I'm_ your_ apprentice."

The expression on Orphen's face then was hard to describe; pride and gratitude didn't quite seem to cover it. Nonetheless, Majic was sure it would be a memory he wouldn't soon forget.

"Damn straight," Orphen nodded, a small smile momentarily breaking through his serious expression.

"You're both goddamn fools," Hartia sighed. But he moved to kneel opposite Majic, clasping their hands together. "Goddamn, stupid, crazy fools. When we die, I'm gonna kill you both."

Orphen placed his hands gently on Cleao's cheeks, his eyes cast downward. Hartia took one of Majic's hands and placed it on Orphen's shoulder, doing the same himself.

"Try to channel your energy into him," he explained quietly, Orphen's murmuring already beginning. "Use as much power as you can, all right? Everything you've got."

Majic nodded, gritting his teeth together. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his task, summoning up all the power he could muster. He saw every lesson his master had taught him flash before his eyes; every spell, every incantation.

_See it in your mind._

Beads of sweat trickled down his face, his hand clenched so tightly in Hartia's it went numb.

He felt it building up inside him, the power flowing through every vain, pooling from his very core into his fingertips.

There was an instant where he felt, _knew, _he held all the power he posessed in his own hands. He willed it with all his might in his master's direction.

And then everything went dark.

* * *

**_Gotta love cliffhangers...Right? *sheepish grin*_**


	6. Chapter 6

_Hi everyone! I'm so sorry it's been so long since my last update, and that this chapter is pathetically short. I'm currently in the middle of moving out of my house - er, well, I'm finished moving, now I just have to unpack DX - so my computer will be unaccessable for quite some time. Since I'm staying with a friend (I'm heading to rez at the end of august so I'm not completely unpacking myself, and the new house won't be ready until september anyway!) I won't get the chance to unpack it until rez iin the end of August. I had some of chapter 6 written up on my phone, and this is as much of it as I could remember. I'll try to keep updating, and as soon as I can access my computer I'll re-edit the chappies as they should be :) Thank you everyone for your patience and reviews, I appreciate every single one of them even though I know there's a ton I haven't responded to. Please accept my humblest apologies, and enjoy this little snippet until I can get my life back in order. Enjoy!_

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Chapter 6

"I knew this was going to happen. Lai's going to be furious with me. And the Tower! When they find out what I've allowed you to do, it'll all be over. They'll strip me of my title, outcast me, possibly have me killed-"

"-If I'd known you were such a pussy, I never would've asked for your help-"

"-Excuse me? I'm the pussy? You're the one who's so busy trying to hide from your feelings that you don't even notice when Cleao's being dragged off to some alternate universe! Hell, it's your damn fault we're in this mess to begin with-"

"-We're in this mess because that stupid brat got herself blown up by a goddamn SIREN! It's not my fault she attracts danger like a magnet. And what the hell do my feelings have to do with this?"

The two "friends" had been hollering at each other for what seemed like hours. It had probably been longer.

Majic sighed, rubbing his aching temples as the argument grew to ear-splitting octaves. Hartia's voice did have that girlish peak…

He'd regained consciousness only a short time ago; awoken, no doubt, by their constant bickering. What he'd found had been quite a surprise: the surrounding rubble, splintered wood and lumps of rock, had vanished. So, in fact, had the forest; the thick, slightly foreboding trees with their infinite range of leaves had been replaced with...well, Majic hadn't been sure how to describe his surroundings.

It was like they'd been thrust into a giant, blank canvas. Everywhere he looked, he was greeted with an endless eternity of nothing. Just...white.

Of course, he had no idea what was going on. His questions went unanswered, due in large part to the fact that he couldn't get a word out without being interrupted.

"Um...Master..." He hesitantly poked Orphen in the shoulder, trying in vain to get his attention.

"There you go again," Hartia was raging, jabbing his finger in Orphen's direction, his eyes narrowed dangerously, "refusing to acknowledge your stupid feelings. That's right, the great Krylancelo is too mighty to have feelings."

"Master, can you fill me in-"

"-Listen to yourself!" Orphen shouted right back, hands balled angrily into fists, legs staggered as if in preparation to charge. "Same old Hartia, more interested in gossip than anything else. No wonder you've never been la-"

"-MASTER!"

Both sorcerers jumped, staring at Majic with equal expressions of shock. Travelling with the kid was about the same as having a mouse for a companion; silent, meek, completely harmless.

Red-faced but pleased with himself, Majic took advantage of the momentary silence. "Would you two both stop acting like children?" He scolded, frowning darkly at both of them. "Cleao's still in danger. Did the spell even work?"

Hartia, at least, looked slightly ashamed. Orphen looked just like he always did: pissed off.

"We're in Cleao's mind," Hartia explained slowly, ducking his head slightly. "Well, not exactly her mind, per say. It's more like a dimension in her mind." His voice had changed, becoming much more serious. "It's the Siren's creation, this place," he continued, leaning over and pressing his palm flat against the pale floor. "It seems we've been transferred to the edge of Its drawing board. So to speak." He paused, slowly rising from the ground. "Perhaps, if we travelled further into the dream, we would reach the more detailed area. We're likely to find Cleao there, at the very least."

Orphen had fallen silent; he appeared to be scanning the area, his face a mask of solemnity. Majic knew better than to disturb him, so instead he pelted Hartia with questions.

"That was what the spell was for? To bring us into Cleao's dream?"

"This wasn't the intended effect, no," Hartia spat, shooting furious glares at Orphen's back. "We were trying to counteract the Siren's spell. Overthrow Its power. But, as I forewarned, it didn't quite go as planned. We could've all been killed. Instead, we ended up marooned here."

To the average observer, Orphen would have appeared to have been ignoring the entire conversation. Majic, however, had developed the ability to read people quite well; he noticed the slight stiffening of his master's back, the slow clenching of his fists. There was a louder scuffle as he walked, his steps much more aggressive.

Majic watched him nervously as Hartia droned on, oblivious to his friend's growing anger.

"I told him it was too dangerous, that he was too close to her, but did he listen? Of course not. Krylancelo doesn't listen to anyone but himself, the stubborn fool-"

Any further rantings of his were cut off at that moment, luckily for him considering Orphen's lethal expression. There was a bright flare of light, so powerful it momentarily blinded the trio. Following swiftly behind came a ground-shaking boom of thunder.

"What in the world-"

Hartia's exclamation of confusion was interrupted by the sudden tidal wave of rain that hammered into them from the sky, soaking through their clothes in a matter of seconds, flooding around them in a fast-rising pool of icy water.

Orphen, after a few colourful words spat at the new situation, turned to the others. The movement sent a spray of rainwater flying from his hair and clothing, peppering Majic's face along with the icy rain. He blinked the droplets quickly out of his eyes, trying to keep his attention fixed on his master.

"We've gotta move. Now!" Orphen ordered, shouting over the deafening storm. One thing was for certain: electricity and water do not mix. They needed to get their asses out of the storm and fast; otherwise they'd be, quite literally, toast. The others nodded, their faces bearing identical grave expressions. Majic slipped and slid through the chilling water, trying in vain to keep himself steady. Hartia put a hand on the young apprentice's shoulder to steady him, encouraging him forward.

"Where are we moving to?" Hartia didn't want to stall, but someone needed to point out the flaw in this new plan: they had no idea what to expect next. What possible horrors were awaiting them beyond this point?

Orphen ran a hand through his hair, setting another wave of watery droplets loose, and opened his mouth to answer. Another flash of lightning cut him off, soon followed by an even louder echo of thunder.

"Anywhere but here. Let's go!" He urged fiercely, sprinting in the general direction they'd been migrating toward since they'd arrived. The others followed suit without further hesitation, sloshing through the water as fast as they could. The rain pelted them mercilessly, the icy droplets relentlessly battering their already worn bodies. The continuous shower flooded their vision, practically destroying any level of visibility possible.

And then, as suddenly as it had started, the rain stopped. The clouds disappeared, leaving the startlingly bright sun gleaming down at them.

"…What the fuck is going on here."

The trio continued at a slower pace, watching the sky constantly for any sign of further weather changes. After they'd moved a good distance, Majic couldn't help but speak up. It felt, to him, like they should be doing something a little more productive than just walking around. For all they knew, really, they could be going in the wrong direction completely. Or, they could be heading in the right direction, completely blind and unprepared. It wasn't like his Master to just barrel straight into danger like this; well...maybe it was. Maybe that was the problem.

"I don't know about this, Master…"

Orphen ground his teeth together, bringing a gloved hand up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose in a feeble attempt to steady himself. Somehow beating the living shit out of the kid just didn't seem like a good idea. Despite how fucking desperately he was asking for it. "Do you have a better idea?" He spat, his irritated tone alone acting as a warning not to piss him off.

"Um..W-well, no…"

"That's what I thought. Keep walking."

Majic silently obeyed, trudging across the empty white sheet of land currently at their feet. His eyes flickered worriedly up at the darkened sky, watching as a new mass of black clouds slowly merged, attempting to blot out the sun.

His master hadn't explained his plan - if he even had one yet - so it seemed to Majic that they were just walking around aimlessly, probably in circles with their luck. He didn't see how they would ever find Cleao this way, especially since they were already struggling to see what was up ahead of them. He had to squint into the darkness just to make sure he wasn't going to walk into anything. Not that there had been anything to walk into, of course. The same bland white floors were the only structure they'd encountered thus far, and that didn't seem to be changing anytime soon.

Still, they continued their journey, determined to find and save their friend. None of them were prepared to accept defeat, to give up without a fight. They were going to find the Siren and make it pay.

"Look." Orphen's low voice brought Majic stumbling over to his side, peering into the dark in an attempt to see what he was referring to. Hartia moved to his other side, watching closely. Orphen was reaching down toward the ground, cupping something in his hand. Bringing it up for closer inspection, he muttured something under his breath before pushing his open palm under Majic's nose.

"It's sand." He stated, and from his tone of voice, Majic could tell that this meant something to him. But at the moment, nothing important was coming to mind.

"Sand…? What does that mean, Master? Are we getting closer?"

Orphen spread open his fingers, letting the grains slip through the cracks. He frowned down at his empty palm for a moment, lost in thought.

"Majic, did Cleao ever mention the beach to you?" He asked quietly, still staring at his open hand.

"Huh?" Where was he going with this, now? "Um...Well, I know she liked the beach. You know her, Master. Anything relaxing and nice to look at is a favourite for her."

"Favourite, huh." Orphen mulled this over, sifting through his thoughts with growing urgency.

_They started a few days ago. The nightmares._

Could it be…?

_And then, it changes. Everyone starts...disappearing. I'm left alone on the beach. And eventually that goes, too; the water dries up, leaving a cracked desert behind. I wander it alone, trying to understand where everyone else went. Why I...Why I can't go with them._

"I don't think 'favourite' is the right word for this, Majic." Orphen muttered darkly. Before he could elaborate, the young apprentice's eyes suddenly lit up with wonder, his gaze fixed on something Orphen couldn't see.

"Master...look!" He whispered excitedly, pointing to something behind him. Turning slowly, Orphen could only stare, words having escaped him. "It's a beach! We're on a beach now, aren't we?"

He was right. It was the only explanation that made sense. Looking down, Orphen muttered a curse under his breath.

Sand. There was fucking sand everywhere.

"We must be getting closer. Right Master?" Majic asked hopefully, his eyes searching the sorcerer's face for any signs of hope. For some reason he couldn't understand, the only recognizable expression on his face was anger. Hartia put a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention away for a moment.

"I believe you're correct," He praised, attempting a smile. But it was clear to the young apprentice that even Hartia was having trouble scrutinizing his friend's dark expression. Clearly, something was very wrong here. Aside from the obvious, of course.

"We have to hurry." There was a peculiar tone to his words, something Majic had never heard from his master's lips before. Something he didn't think was possible, to be honest.

Fear.

Without another word, Orphen broke into a run, heading further into the sandy beach, the others left to scurry after him.

"CLEAO!"

* * *

"That's an odd question." Cleao stated, her words coming out slightly slurred. Her head felt oddly light on her shoulders; every time she turned, she was overcome by a wave of dizziness. The sandy earth seemed to move beneath her, only adding to her coordination troubles.

"Not really," Orphen - the Siren - insisted, his voice seeming to fade in and out as he spoke. "I'm just trying to learn more about you. That's what questions are for, right? Learning."

That made sense. Sort of. Or maybe it didn't. Her head was too full of fog to function anymore. What was the question again…? Something about….

"I thought you could...sense my desires or something." Isn't that what he said earlier? That he could make her hopes and dreams come true, that he knew what she really wanted? After all, he'd chosen to wear Orphen as a mask. "Why bother asking a question that you already know the answer to?"

"Hm...You're a lot stronger than I thought, it seems."

"What are you talking about?" She grumbled, wiping a hand groggily over her face. Bits of sand stuck to her cheeks in splotches, and she hastily attempted to scrub them away. "You're the one that's always telling me what a nuisance I am…" No. That wasn't right. Orphen was the one who complained about her all the time. This thing wasn't Orphen. Why was that so hard to remember? Thinking about it..about anything just hurt. Like a goddamn hangover from hell.

"It's too late, you know." That person- she refused to call him Orphen again- stated cheerfully, watching her struggle with a bemused expression. The corners of his mouth were twitching, as if he was holding back a chuckle.

"What's too late?" She groaned, clutching her head between her palms. Even speaking was painful; thousands of tiny nails drilling through her brain. She tried to take in deep, calming breaths but the air stank of rot, something sweet and bitter at the same time, making her gag. The dizziness was fading, at least, though it only seemed to make the pain all the more intense.

"There's no reason to fight. You've already lost."

"You clearly don't know Orphen as well as you think," she mumbled, a small smile playing its way across her lips of it's own accord. "He won't let anything happen to his friends. He'll...He'll save me." If only she believed it herself.

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to resort to this," the Siren sighed dramatically before heaving itself to its feet.

"Get the hell away from me." Cleao growled, still clutching her throbbing skull in her hands, the pain raking down her spine. She attempted to stand, pulling one leg out from under her and pushing upward with as much strength as she could muster. "Just stay back," she stammered, rising unsteadily to her feet. Blood pulsed heavily in her brain and for a moment she wobbled, close to falling back into the gritty sand. Taking a slow breath - from her mouth, this time- she managed to steady herself.

"It didn't have to be this way," it mumbled almost sadly, an odd contrast to her increasing panic. He dusted off his dark dress pants before taking a step forward. "All you had to do was accept me, and give in. Your friends would have been spared." He took another step forward just as Cleao wobbled backward, one hand pressing hard into her eyes, the other held out in a weak attempt to keep her balance. "I didn't want to hurt them, Cleao. But now that you've brought them here I have no choice-"

"-CLEAO!"

She spun, mid-wobble, and in the split second it took for her to fall and hit the ground, everything changed. She could see all three of them barreling toward her, hear them yelling her name, but there was only one person that mattered to her in that moment. One person she was sure she'd never get to see again. Her savior, her protector, the love of her entire existence.

Orphen, the real Orphen, was here. He was going to save her after all.

"Just remember," the Siren whispered behind her, his voice low and sorrowful, "I tried to prevent this. I really did."

She tore her eyes away from her rescuer for long enough to see a black mass of energy pulsate out of the Siren's now outstretched hands and drive towards them. She flung her head forward, mouth open in a silent scream. There was an explosion, sand thrust into the air and for a moment she couldn't see anything but the bits of dirt raining down all around her. Blinking to clear her vision Cleao crawled forward, her eyes straining to see her friends coming forward again, her mind eerily blank. Moments turned into hours, days, years as she made painfully slow progress toward them. As the dust clouds cleared she could make out a single black figure, unmoving, laying in the crater the Siren's spell had formed. Moving closer, a glint of flapping red material halted her advance.

And then she really was screaming.

* * *

_Again, I apologize for the extremely short update. There's a lot of description/detail missing, and I hope to re-edit it sometime between the end of August and beginning of September.  
-FnI_


	7. Chapter 7

_EDIT: So I'm attempting those ugly pagebreak line thingies, since apparently this thing has a grudge against asterisks :/ Hopefully this at least will work, so that you'll have an easier time reading even if it doesn't look as nice. Cheers! _

_Chapter 7__  
_

A slender figure shakily rose out of the crater, covered in sand from the tips of his wheat-coloured hair to the scruffy toes of those well-worn leather boots. Dazed but for the most part unharmed, Majic stumbled about, squinting in the bright sunlight as he took in his surroundings. His eyes grazed over a dark mess of sand and dirt, the striking mop of copper hair catching his eye as he was turning away.

"Shrimp man!"

His head slowly beginning to clear, Majic wobbled over to where the sorcerer lay, half buried in the sand. Leaning over to grab a visible arm, he shifted back and pulled with all his strength, slowly dragging Hartia out of the sand.

"H-Hartia?" He huffed, dropping to his knees to grasp his shoulders and give him a solid shake. The normally jubilant sorcerer shifted, rolling slightly to the side and blinking blearily up at him, letting out a pained groan.

"Damnit," he sighed, attempting slowly to stand. When that tactic failed, the redhead opted for sitting up. Propping himself up on one hand, he glanced down at himself in disgust. "I _hate_sand." One of his sleeves was missing, likely having been ripped off by the explosion. Majic hadn't noticed, but now that he was looking, there was a small trail of blood running the length of his arm.

"You're bleeding!" He pointed out the obvious, gesturing frantically to Hartia's arm. He looked down at it with a vague disinterest, before shrugging his shoulders and squinting up at him.

"So are you."

"Huh?"

"Your head; there's a big splotch of red in your hair. I assume it's not a fashion statement."

Majic put a hand to his head slowly, wincing when his fingers brushed over the top of his scalp. It felt a little swollen, and when he brought his hand away it was spotted with red liquid.

"Oh."

A thick trail of blood was trickling down his forehead, pooling at his eyebrow, and he rubbed his arm over it to keep it from getting into his eye.

Hartia made another attempt at standing, this one successful. He made a sweeping gesture with his hands, attempting to get the sand out of his robes. He pulled his injured arm up for inspection, frowning at the absurd amount of blood still oozing out of the wound. Holding his hand over it, he muttered a quick healing spell before turning to Majic and gesturing him forward. The young apprentice ducked his head obediently, silently cursing himself for his lack of confidence. It was a simple enough spell, and since his injury was so slight it wouldn't have used up much of his energy. Still, he supposed it was just easier to let Hartia, who actually knew what he was doing, cast the spells while he sat back and watched.

"Thanks," he offered meekly, running a hand gingerly through his hair to touch the still-sore spot on his head. The swelling was gone, and it felt like the wound had healed relatively well; there was a small patch of hair missing, and he could trace it to feel out how big the wound had been.

"It scarred."

"What?" He glanced up to see Hartia staring intensely at him, looking bewildered. He put both hands on his head, flatting his sand-covered hair to his head to give him a better look at the cut.

"That's not supposed to happen. It was a small wound, it shouldn't have left a scar." He was mumbling to himself, his brows pinched in confusion. "And a weird scar, too. I feel like I've...seen it before, or something." He leaned closer, such that Majic couldn't see his face properly without looking up, which he couldn't do since Hartia was holding his head down. It was really starting to get uncomfortable. "_Why_ are you so familiar to me? _Where_ have I _seen_you before...?"

"Uhh, Master Hartia?" Majic stammered, trying to keep from fidgeting as he continued to examine his scalp. "I'm sure you've seen a lot of cuts, you know, in your line of work. It probably reminds you of one of those, or something."

"No." He breathed, pulling back slightly though his eyes remained fixed to the wound, that frown growing ever heavier on his face. "This one is different. I just..." He shook his head, defeated. "I don't know. Maybe it'll come to me later." He turned away, facing the crater they'd both been blown into only moments before. "Where's Krylancelo?"

"I... I dunno," Majic managed, peering down into the sandy dune. "I got knocked out by the blast, I guess. When I came to, I found you first. You don't think-"

"Relax, Majic," a voice broke out from behind him, and they both turned in relief to see Orphen, looking rather worse for wear, standing at the edge of the crater. His bandana was missing, his vest and shirt equally torn to shreds to reveal a gruesome carving across his chest, fresh blood dripping down his front to stain the top of his leather pants. There was a dark leather strap wrapped around his waist that Majic had never noticed before, but at the moment it wasn't much of a concern to him. By the looks of it, Orphen hadn't avoided the sand shower either; his skin was gritty with dirt and bits of rock, his hair dusted such that it looked almost grey in the sunlight. "It would take more than that firework to take me down."

"Master!"

"Krylancelo, your _wound_-"

His warning was interrupted by a series of wracking coughs as Orphen doubled over, one hand moving to cover his mouth, the other catching his knee in an attempt to remain standing. Hartia rushed to his side, grabbing his arm and throwing it over his shoulder to keep him upright.

"Heal that which is mine," He uttered sharply, pressing his free hand to his friend's bloody chest.

"I'm fine," Orphen protested angrily, shoving away from him. He staggered slightly in the sand before catching his footing and straightening. "Just a scratch."

"My ass!" Hartia shouted back, exasperation clear in the pinch of his eyes, the way his mouth hung slightly open. "I can't believe you; honestly, even with a hole in your chest you think you can do anything, don't you?"

"Where is she?" Orphen demanded, choosing to consider his friend's question as a rhetorical one, his voice coming out toneless. He was staring at his hand, covered in blood from his wound or from something else he didn't even know. Or care, if he was being honest. Really, none of it mattered to him in the slightest; all he wanted, all he needed, was to find that stupid little brat, drag her sorry ass back into the real world, and yell at her until his face turned blue.

The answering silence did nothing to alleviate the sharp pain in his chest, the one that had been growing heavier and more painful since he'd seen her lying there, pinned by that damned wall at the inn.

"Ah! M-Master, look!" Majic suddenly shouted, his voice a confusing mix of relief and panic. Orphen turned to him, saw him pointing at something in the distance that he couldn't quite make out. It looked like some kind of sphere, a semi-translucent bubble that practically screamed sorcery. The sun shone off of it, blinking impatiently at them like a beacon. Squinting against the brightness, he could just make out a figure inside the sphere, a dark smear of colour too far away for him for any form of recognition. Without further comment, he broke into a run, ignoring his screaming lungs, the strain it put on his bruised muscles. He could hear his two companions shouting after him, and soon their heavy footsteps mirrored his own as they ran toward what was likely to be their final battle.

* * *

"Orphen!"

Even from a distance, Cleao could make out that damned red bandana, flapping breezily in the slight wind. But she couldn't see him, or any of the others for that matter. Just that stupid scrap of material, and the humongous hole in the ground the Siren's spell had created. She opened her mouth to scream again, the word dying in her throat as something tugged painfully at the back of her shirt, dragging her helplessly to her feet. Before she had time to react or even register what was happening, she was pulled back with a sharp tug, and a hand came around her waist to clamp down tightly, keeping her prisoner. She gasped, a hiss of pain slipping out of her mouth as her hip was squeezed harder, pressing her flush against someone's - 3 guesses, everybody - chest. She struggled, digging her elbows into Its sides as hard as she could in the hopes that It would release her. He - It - grunted in surprised pain, and she took her chance. She stomped as hard as she could on Its foot and, when Its hold loosened, she broke free and made a run for it. Yet again, she found herself running for her life from the very person she'd entrust her body and soul to; her protector, her savior. It was getting harder and harder to distinguish the Siren from Orphen, such that a part of her was screaming at her that she was crazy for trying to hurt him, and for running away when he was the only person who could prevent anything bad from happening to her. At least while he was around to save her. She kept her eyes fixed on that speck of red, even as her resolve faltered and she found herself slowing. What was she doing again? Why was she running..? Just as she began debating whether or not she should stop, her decision was made for her. She smashed head-first into what felt like a solid brick wall, falling back onto her butt with both hands moving to quell the explosive spray of blood pouring from her now-broken nose, the sharp cry of pain she'd unconsciously released still echoing in her ears.

"OW!" Tears of pain blurred her vision, and she blinked them away furiously, trying to see what she'd just collided so painfully with. Empty space greeted her, and she slowly rose to her feet, one hand pinching the bridge of her nose to stem the flow of blood, the other reaching tentatively in front of her. She jerked back in alarm when her fingers met with an invisible wall, the movement leaving a smear of blood that literally appeared to be suspended mid-air. "Wha..What the hell?"

"Dear me, that was terribly unnecessary, don't you think?" The Siren tutted from behind her, Its voice dripping with sarcasm. "You know what they say; Karma's a - well, not a very nice lady."

"What is this thing?" She demanded, her voice coming out muffled since she was still pinching her bleeding nose. It throbbed painfully, and was probably swelling like a grape, but she did her best to just ignore it. She pointed a finger threateningly at Orphen, achieving a surprisingly threatening air as she stared him down. "Let me out, you crazy charlatan. Let me out _right now!"_

He laughed - the bastard outright laughed in her face - shaking his head with mock amazement. "Wow. I was starting to think you'd never crack. A shame it came too late. Now I'll have to get rid of your friends for nothing." He rolled his shoulders, tilting his head to the side to give his neck a sharp crack. "For that little stunt earlier, I think I'll save you for last. I'm tired of babying you, since you seem to love throwing my mercy ungratefully back in my face."

"Okay, now you're acting like a freak. Is this a joke?" Cleao let go of her nose, which had finally stopped gushing, and put a hand to her forehead to shade her eyes from the sun. "Is Majic hiding somewhere? You guys are trying to pull a fast one on me, aren't you? Well let me tell you, mister, it ain't gonna work-"

He took a hasty step back, grimacing at her in disgust as she continued her rant, completely oblivious to his reaction. "Ugh. Dear God; I think I liked it better when you didn't believe I was him." Holding his arm out, he muttered an incantation that Cleao wouldn't have recognized had she been paying attention, and a door-shaped section of the sphere vanished, leaving a clear path outside. Stepping lithely outside the bubble, he waved his arm once in a semi-circle and the hole sealed itself up again.

"Orphen! Are you even listening to- hey, where are you going?" She shouted after him, marching up to the edge of the bubble before she caught herself; her nose was a painful reminder that she didn't want to make that mistake again. Carefully, she tapped a knuckle against the air - she hit the wall as she'd expected, the dull thud sounding a lot as if she'd knocked on a heavy glass window. "You better not be leaving me in this thing! At least fix my nose first! _ORPHEN!_"

On the other side of the bubble, Orphen was already walking away, lifting his fingers up in a mock salute/wave as he went. He couldn't hear the girl; the sphere he'd formed was sound-proof, thank the Lord. If he had to listen to that awful screeching for even one more second, well, he would've ended up killing her out of sheer annoyance. And, really. Where was the fun in that?

* * *

The trio had made it close enough to see inside the sphere when the Siren emerged, waving behind it with an amused smirk. Orphen's gaze hesitated on It for a moment, taking in Its appearance. From what he could tell...Well, aside from a severe crack in fashion sense, the thing looked exactly like him. Hell, that little two-fingered salute was practically his trademark. There was the most peculiar urge to demand the Siren stopped stealing his stuff and used Its own material. Then his gaze shifted to the girl standing inside the bubble, slamming her fists angrily against the barrier. He could see that she was yelling, shouting some angry and no doubt inappropriate key phrases at the Siren's back, but there was no sound, at least none that he could make out. More importantly, he could see a thin river of crimson leading from the middle of her face to the first few opened buttons of her blouse, staining the once-orange material a dark red. That pain in his chest tripled, a sharp stabbing that left him suffocating, gasping for air even as the Siren approached.

"Well, well," his own voice taunted, amused, "it seems the faith our little Cleao has in you isn't as undeserving as I'd originally expected."

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her; She clearly wasn't seriously injured, if she could still kick up a tantrum any spoiled princess would envy, but it brought back the image of her lying there, bloodied and broken, completely unresponsive. He felt the tearing in his chest gradually shift; his blood flooded his veins, pulsing rapidly as he took in her appearance, moving closer to get a better view. Now he could see her faltering, her crystal blue eyes flicking between him and the Siren's, clearly confused. He could also see the swollen mess her nose was in, and a spark of rage pushed the last of that helpless feeling away. Clenching his hands tightly at his sides, he finally pulled his eyes away from hers to stare down his new opponent.

"Well, what can I say?" Orphen drawled, shrugging his shoulders lazily. He was the picture of ease, save for his fists, clenched so tightly that he could feel his nails digging into the skin underneath the gloves. "I _am_the Scion of Sorcery, after all."

"Oh yes, I know," the Siren confessed, coming to a rest a good 6 paces away, its hip cocked to the side in defiance. "I know almost everything about you, Krylancelo. In fact, I likely know more about you than you do."

"Master!"

"Krylancelo!"

Hartia and Majic scrambled to a halt behind him, both huffing from exerting themselves. He flicked one palm behind him, gesturing for them to stay back; his eyes never left his enemy.

"Eager little guys, aren't they?" The Siren chortled, its red eyes flickering curiously over the two newest guests. He frowned, inspecting them both intently for a moment. "Hm. Interesting; Now that's not really what I expected at all. This should be fun."

"Alright, demon boy," Orphen growled, bringing his left arm up, index and middle fingers pointed to the sky. A blue blade stretched from his fingertips, and he drew his hand sharply to the side, slicing the air threateningly. "You get points for sexiness, but you completely lack any creativity. Does the phrase 'Epic Fail' mean anything to you?"

"Oh, excellent. I was hoping you'd start with the blade." The siren clapped gleefully - and it looked so completely _odd_to see himself performing such a ridiculous action - before mimicking his movement; the same blade shot up from his hand, the only difference being its dark red-black colour. Grinning wickedly, the Siren shifted into the exact same battle stance. "Shall we begin?"

With a low growl, Orphen shot forward, his blade drawn menacingly. The Siren met him halfway, their twin blades clashing with a ground-shaking impact. Orphen hopped back before lashing out to the side, aiming for the hip. The Siren dropped its blade to parry the blow before sending a booted foot straight to his gut. His breath whooshing out of him from the impact, Orphen stumbled back, just barely managing to block the Siren's next attack. He dropped to one knee, muttering a low "I call thee," before rolling to the left and throwing his free hand forward and spitting out the finishing line, "sisters of destruction!". There was a flash of purple light before the ground before him literally erupted, a huge explosion that sent him skidding backward, a thick haze of sand momentarily blinding him.

"Master! Master, you did it!" Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear his apprentice shouting for him; he felt a hand on his shoulder, tugging anxiously until he shoved himself into a standing position.

"Majic get back!"

"But-"

A bolt of silver lightning shot toward them through the cloud of dirt, and Orphen barely managed to throw up a shield before it came crashing into them.

"Get outta here!" He shouted, gritting his teeth as he strained against the force of the spell, his arms spread wide in the shape of a cross. Hartia grabbed the stunned apprentice by the nape of his cloak - well, it was actually _his_cloak, which he wanted back as soon as this was over, but that was an issue for another time - and heaved him backward just as Orphen's shield cracked and the force blew him off his feet.

"Aw, are we finished already? That was a little disappointing." The Siren sighed, strutting through the settling sand, looking like he had barely broken a sweat. Even so, a thin cut marred his once-perfect face and as a tiny trickle of blood oozed from the wound, he paused, looking startled. Raising a hand to wipe his face, he stared at the blood with an expression that bordered on impressed.

"I was just warming up," Orphen shot back, struggling to his feet. He wavered slightly before righting himself, his arms hanging at his sides. "But if you're ready to end this little game, it'll be my pleasure to blow you to pieces."

"Krylancelo! It's too powerful, you can't take it on alone-"

"-Shut up and go help Cleao." He barked out, his murderous glare never leaving his own smirking reflection. His shoulder throbbed from slamming into the ground; he was pretty sure it wasn't dislocated, but even if it was, that wasn't really important at the moment. He'd fought through worse. He rolled his other shoulder, flexing his fingers experimentally. Nothing broken.

Good.

"Round two?" The siren suggested, reaching behind him to tug at the hem of his pants. When he drug his hand forward, it was to reveal a short, razor sharp sword that glinted dangerously in the light. "How about we try _real_blades this time, assassin?"

Orphen started at the name, his fingers twitching with the urge to beat the thing senseless. No one knew that about him; it had been a dark secret, something he had spent the last 3 years trying unsuccessfully to bury in the past. Only Childman had known of his gift with a blade, his mastery of stealth. Childman had been the one to teach him, after all.

His fingers curled around the hilt of a dagger, one of a twin set that was sheathed at his lower back, normally hidden beneath his vest. It had been so long since he'd used a blade that he hadn't conjured up himself. He didn't like the familiar feel of cool steel between his fingers; he didn't want the memories to surface, the countless murders he'd justified as his only way of survival.

"Better give it your all," he spoke, the words tasting like lead on his tongue, "because I'm not holding back."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

And then It was dashing toward him, the blade swinging in one smooth arc as It closed the distance between them, a maniacal grin spread across Its face.

Orphen pulled both daggers out of their sheaths and parried the blow, jabbing forward with one arm even as he blocked another attack.

The Siren danced backward, laughing, Its red eyes glinting with excitement, and the fight continued.

* * *

What the hell was going on? First, she was running away from Orphen and into a freaking invisible wall. Then he was ditching her to go fight _himself_, and now Shrimpy and Majic were trying to talk to her through an apparently sound-proof freaking invisible wall.

Was this a dream? Had she hit her head or something? None of this was making sense.

"Ma-jic." She tried, for the umpteenth time, to convey to the kid that she had no idea what he was saying. "I. Can't. Hear. You." When he continued to babble, gesturing frantically with his arms in what looked like a jumbled lifting motion, she rolled her eyes. She pressed her hands to her ears and shook her head, hoping that would be simple enough for him to understand.

Honestly, sometimes Majic could be so dense.

And then Hartia was standing beside him, slowly mouthing something and gesturing with his hands, as if he were pushing something away from him. She tried to concentrate on his mouth, to read what he was trying to say.

"…Mo…try…spell. Motry spell? Mo try a spell? Who the hell is Mo?" And then he was gesturing more frantically with his arms, shoving them forward in a shooing motion.

"OH! Move! You want me to move so you can try a spell! Got it!" She smacked her fist into her open palm, nodding her understanding before she turned on her heel and jogged away from the wall. Her memory was super foggy; she couldn't remember where the hell they were, or what they were doing, but she had that sinking feeling she only got when she felt guilty or responsible for something bad. So, it was probably safe to assume that whatever mess they were in was her fault. Just perfect. No wonder Orphen had locked her up.

But then, why were Hartia and Majic struggling so much to let her out? Didn't they know the spell to reverse it? And what the _hell_ was the deal with the double Orphen duel thingy going on out there?

God. This had to be a dream. It made absolutely no sense otherwise.

As the two sorcerers attempted a few different spells against the bubble, she turned her attention to the fight going on behind them. The two Orphens were really going at it; they'd abandoned the magical blades for those made of steel – she hadn't even known Orphen carried actual weapons with him. How had she never noticed something like that? Watching them attacking each other with a growing sense of panic, she found she couldn't tell the difference between them. Which one was the "good" Orphen? The one without the shirt, swinging around two lethal daggers, or the one with the white dress shirt and shortsword? They moved in exactly the same manor. Cleao had been his partner for almost 3 years now, so she'd learned every move Orphen made, every stance, every damn twitch of muscle. And yet, she couldn't tell them apart by their fighting style; it was like they were the same freaking person.

Well, the "bad" Orphen had to be the dude with the shirt on, she decided. Since when did he _ever_ wear anything that wasn't leather? Seriously, the guy was practically married to that damn vest of his. But then, what the hell was the deal with the other Orphen? Did he have some evil twin that he'd failed to mention to the rest of them? Or maybe he hadn't even known about him; after all, he'd grown up in an orphanage. Maybe they'd been separated at birth or something.

A low rumbling interrupted her muddled thoughts and she glanced away from the fight to find the source of the sound. On the other side of the barrier, Majic and Hartia looked decidedly pale, but they bore identical expressions of defeat. So, they hadn't found a way for her to get out then. What the hell was that noise then?

Suddenly, a spidery vein shot across the barrier, a sound like cracking glass accompanying it. As she watched, more and more veins crackled across the bubble until the entire wall in front of her was carved to pieces, impossible to see through. The splintering of glass was deafening, and with a sudden understanding, Cleao backed up as far as she could, staring fearfully at the wall as it began to shatter. With a deafening boom, the entire wall crumbled, bits and pieces of the bubble spraying everywhere as it collapsed. Cleao dropped to her knees and pulled her arms over her head to shield herself from the fragments.

"Cleao! Cleao, are you injured?" There was the sound of crunching glass underfoot, the young apprentice's voice finally breaking through the sound-proof barrier to reach her. She lifted her head up to see that the wall had completely shattered, and Majic was kneeling in front of her, his big blue eyes blinking down at her anxiously.

"I think my nose might be broken, no thanks to that giant jerk!" She jutted her chin in the direction of the still-fighting Orphens before sighing and turning to look Majic over. Hartia was stumbling over to them, trying vainly to avoid stepping on any glass shards. "What the hell happened to you two? Actually, scratch that. What the hell is going on around here! Where are we?"

Majic looked her over nervously as Hartia reached them, peering close to examine her nose. "Definitely broken," he confirmed before lifting a hand to press gently against her swollen nose and raising a brow as if to ask permission.

"Please!"

Nodding, he muttered the spell under his breath – he couldn't remember the last time he'd used healing spells in such quick succession – and glanced at her nose. The swelling was gone, and the bone looked to have re-aligned itself properly, though there was still some major brusing.

"Tada. Almost good as new."

"At least someone had the decency to fix it," she grumbled unhappily before rounding on Majic. "Now, answer my questions! What's the friggin' deal!"

Majic looked taken aback; he glanced from her to Hartia, who looked just as perplexed. "You mean," he stammered slightly, eying her again with those damn concerned eyes of his, his brow furrowed, "You really don't remember?"

"Remember what?"

"Um, well," he began, running a hand through his hair in almost exactly the same way as his master, "You were in the inn when it…Exploded."

"…Exploded?"

"Yeah…We don't really know what happened; by the time we got there, you were already trapped here."

"Wait, what? Slow down. What inn? I was in an explosion?"

"Don't you remember at all? The creepy old guy with the really shifty eyes, and the creepy chuckle?"

"Uh, I'm gonna say no."

"Well, we ended up staying at his inn. And somehow, you got trapped here by a Siren after the inn exploded. We're in a dream world, or something like that."

"So this _is_ a dream then. But wait, what the hell is a Siren?"

"Well-"

"-Hate to interrupt, children," Hartia snapped, looking quite unabashed by it, "but you do realize that Orphen is in a life-or-death battle with said demon _right now?_"

Cleao glanced over his shoulder to the ongoing fight; neither one of them appeared to be letting up. "So one of them, I'm assuming the well-dressed guy, is actually a Siren?"

"Yeah. You've been stuck with that thing here for at least 24 hours now. Maybe It's making you lose your memories or something..?"

"Well, damn that thing! I'm not about to let anything kill Orphen before I get the chance to! Let's go kick its ass!"

"Wah- Cleao, wait!"

"You're gonna hurt yourself! Are you insane?"

"Somebody's gotta save Orphen's butt! And I am his partner after all." With that, Cleao charged forward, eyes fixed on the Siren as It and Orphen continued their battle. She was his partner, damnit. She'd been working with him for years, and she'd really learned from Stephanie whenever they stopped by to visit during their travels. She could do this; she could help him. He was always throwing himself into danger to protect her. Even now, apparently, he was fighting this Siren to save her.

Well, now it was her turn to fight. She would protect him this time.

* * *

_If anyone's curious, the fight scene between Orphen and the Siren was inspired by the 2nd opening from the first season of the Anime - I think the song is called Serenade, but I'm not entirely sure!_

FnI


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I have a song that has pretty much been the theme for this story, but it really came into play during the last part of this chapter. It's called Don't You Worry by Lucy Rose. Give it a listen via YouTube during the last little bit of this chapter if you like :)_

_Chapter 8_

"Once again, I must admit I'm impressed," the Siren pointed out cheerfully, its muscles straining as it pressed down on its weapon, currently prevented from slicing Orphen to pieces only by the two daggers he was holding up in front of him, the three blades locked together in a twisted mash of steel. "No one has ever managed to get within three feet of me before, let alone leave a mark."

"What is it with you and your never-fucking-ending monologues?" Orphen spat out, his arms beginning to shake. His lungs were burning, a sharp pain stabbing through his chest with every intake of breath. He'd been pretty sure he'd dodged the more serious assaults, but by the feel of it, the Siren had gotten one up on him. Still, the monster had gotten its share of injuries as well. There were slashes across Its chest from Orphen's twin blades, scorch marks on Its sleeves from a few close spells. The thing may be powerful, but It was definitely not invincible.

"Oh, mind your language, sorcerer," the Siren tsked, Its blade inching ever closer to the soft flesh under Orphen's chin. "That's not a very flattering quality." At that It jerked Its sword forward, the tip of the metal blade kissing the skin of Orphen's neck. With a hiss, he shoved his arms forward with as much strength as he could, managing to push the Siren back long enough for him to port away.

Rematerializing, he had a split second of rest before the Siren was charging him again, looking as if It hadn't even broken a sweat. Orphen tried to take a defensive stance, parrying the first few blows, lashing out whenever he saw an opening. Despite his efforts the blasted creature still managed to dodge him, chuckling gleefully with each swing of his blades.

A slip in his concentration. The sharp sting of steel slicing into his cheek, just under his left eye gave him enough adrenaline to fire off a weak spell. The Siren dodged it with complete ease, of course, but It did have to move further away from him, giving him a moment to recover. He swiped a hand across his face, the back of his glove glistening wetly with fresh blood.

Whatever. He'd been through worse.

Weapons at the ready, he charged forward, the Siren meeting him halfway.

* * *

Cleao Everlasting ran like her life depended on it. No, she ran like _his_ life depended on it; he needed her help, and apparently it was her fault that they were even in this mess, so she was gonna do everything she could to get them out of it. Hartia and Majic were right behind her, their protests quickly dying down when faced with her stubborn determination. They were resigned to the fact that once she set her mind to something, for better or worse, she was going to see it through to the end.

Closing in on the fight, she got a better look at the desire demon-thingy. It actually did look exactly like Orphen, save for a drastic change in wardrobe. Even Its fighting style mirrored his own, so much so that she could see Orphen struggling. How did one beat oneself in a duel?

"With a partner like me, that's how." She answered her own question aloud, coming to a stop just on the fringes of the fight. She could see marks in the sand from where they'd been; footsteps mushed together with dips where someone had been rolling. Each time they moved a circle of sand seemed to follow, a flurry of dirt that flew around them in arcs and swirls, encompassing their fight in a shimmer of rocks and dust. Her thoughts momentarily went back to Orphen's fight with the golem, years ago. That had been her first true attempt at her role as his partner. She'd created a distraction, giving Orphen an opening to attack. It looked like he would need something similar to land any hits on the creature. Distractions and annoyances were Cleao's specialty.

"Hey you!" She shouted across the sandy plain, pointing one finger fiercely at the pair of fighters. "Freaky doppelgänger thing!" The pair broke apart roughly, each moving away from the other and turning to look at her. The Siren didn't even bother glancing in her direction.

But Orphen did. He looked at her, simply looked. There was no emotion on his face whatsoever, which was surprising in itself. Normally he'd be swearing a bloody blue streak at her to get out of the way or stop distracting him or whatever. But he didn't say anything at all. And that silence spoke volumes.

When her eyes met his, time seemed to slow; for one second, one instant, something flickered in those amber eyes of his. The way he seemed to search her, as if drinking in her appearance, felt intimate, private. She could feel a faint flush creeping up her chest, her cheeks burning a rosy shade of crimson. Somehow, in that moment Cleao felt closer to him than she'd ever been. Her breath caught.

And then he turned away from her, without uttering a word.

_Wow_. What a friggin jerk!

Majic _had_ said she'd been in an explosion, right? With lots of blood and gore and unconsciousness and stuff? Didn't he _care?_

Well, fine. It's not like she was expecting him to just drop everything and run to her, pull her into his arms and whisper how relieved he was to see her. Or something.

The clone still hadn't even acknowledged her presence yet. She clenched her teeth, stomping her foot angrily.

"**_HEY!_**I'm talking to you!" She bellowed, her temper raging. _That _got Its attention. It seemed honestly surprised to see her, scrutinizing her for a moment before turning to glance at her companions.

Orphen looked less than pleased.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He snarled, sparing her a momentary glare before turning his attention back to the monster, his two daggers glinting dangerously in the sunlight. Now _that_ was a more characteristic reaction.

"Saving your ungrateful ass," she muttered under her breath, getting into her best no-nonsense pose, both hands planted firmly on her hips, legs spread apart and a scowl on her face. "Listen buster," she addressed the Siren-Orphen, giving It her dirtiest look, "if you think I'm gonna sit back and let you hurt my friends, you've got another thing coming."

It stared at her for a moment, Its unblinking red eyes giving her the creeps. And then It threw back Its head and laughed, a deep, throaty cackle that got all the way under her skin and settled in her bones, leaving goosebumps colouring her bared flesh.

"I must be putting more effort into this fight than I thought," the Siren commented, another low chuckle escaping Its lips before It continued. "My spheres usually last a great deal longer. How interesting."

"Hartia, get her out of here!" Orphen demanded, just as he shot forward again, his daggers swinging viciously. They met nothing but air, the Siren dodging them easily, Its eyes still on her.

"Perhaps it's time for me to play the wild card," It muttered to itself, bringing Its sword up to parry one of Orphen's attacks, one hand shooting forward as It cast a spell. Fire shot from Its palm, scorching a black trail through the sand. Orphen teleported away just as the flames reached him; and then he was back and they were fighting as if she hadn't even interrupted at all.

But she was his partner; she wasn't about to sit here and do nothing. Orphen had said it himself; he wasn't going to solve her problems for her. She needed to do that for herself.

Cleao'd studied Orphen's fighting style long enough to learn his tells; he had a way of standing, posturizing that often signaled his next move – even his eyes could give away his intentions, if you knew where and when to look. If the Siren was mirroring his moves, It would be creating the same signs for her to see. All she had to do was pick them out-

-_there_. It was leaning to the right, as if preparing to strike from that side, but she spotted the small shift in Its footing -

"Block left!"

As soon as the words left her mouth, the monster attacked. Orphen didn't hesitate; swinging his arms forward, he blocked the creature's attack with one dagger and struck out with the other, slicing a ragged opening down Its arm. With an angry hiss It jerked back, clutching the injured arm to Its chest.

"Impossible..." It spat out, red eyes ablaze with fury. "How could you..best me?" Orphen didn't give It a chance to recover; a silent shadow, he teleported behind the creature, bringing both daggers down in one quick motion. The blades sliced through the Siren's back like a knife through butter, sinking until only the hilts remained visible, crimson liquid oozing out of the wounds in torrents.

"I'm the last one to admit it," He muttered, pulling the blades out sharply before bringing them to rest against Its neck. "But I also have the best partner a guy could ask for. She gives me a bit of an edge."

The Siren laughed, a sharp gurgle of blood cutting It off quickly enough. "This..." It wheezed, coughing and hacking up blood. "This is only the beginning..."

He didn't hesitate. Orphen sliced the monster's neck open with his blades, letting out a jet of blood that spewed forward, raining down on the sand in front of them. His clone's body fell limply, landing face first with a solid thump, empty of life. "Looks pretty fucking final to me."

Turning away from the body, Orphen looked instead toward his companions. Cleao was at the front, of course , with the others standing a ways away, watching him silently. As he staggered closer, her eyes widened. She took in his appearance, her mouth dropping open with an audible gasp.

Dried blood crusted his face, the cut having finally stopped bleeding. Small gashes covered his body; his arms had countless nicks and bruises and his bared chest looked worse than he'd remembered, the mix of dirt and blood combining to form a mess of rusty sludge sticking to his skin.

"Orphen..." It came out a whisper, a breath more than a word, shock stealing her voice away. From a distance, he hadn't looked nearly this bad. He'd been moving so quickly, so effortlessly…

How close to death had he really been?

Orphen came to a sudden stop a few metres away, leaving a substantial distance between them. Hesitating, he searched her face, seemingly gauging her reaction.

"It's me." he spoke carefully, raising his arms slowly in front of him in a placating gesture. "I'm..." his voice cracked – _his voice cracked – _and he cleared his throat to try again. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

Whaaaat?

She blinked; her mouth was working, but no sound was coming out.

He made a frustrated noise, running a hand roughly through his hair - probably the only spot on him that didn't have blood on it. "That..thing that was here. It wasn't me." He grit his teeth, trying to keep his tone level. "It looked like me, and maybe it sounded like me a little, but..." He trailed off, lifting his shoulders up and down in a helpless shrug. "Fuck." He glared at her, his hands bunching into fists. "It wasn't me, okay?"

She took a slow step toward him, her brow furrowing. "I know." God, she'd never seen him so agitated. He looked ready to burst into tears – or kill someone.

Again.

He was staring at her blankly now, so she fumbled for words. "Why else would I have helped you back there?"

"Oh." Orphen seemed to deflate; the tension eased out of his shoulders, his hands slowly uncurling until they dangled uselessly at his sides. "So…" He swallowed, watching her carefully through rusty eyes, "You're not afraid of me?"

She snorted. She couldn't help herself; the idea was completely absurd. How could she ever be afraid of _Orphen? _Sure, he had a vicious temper that was more often than not directed at her, but she'd never actually been afraid of him. _For_ him? Most definitely. But never _of_.

"Of course not, you idiot." She couldn't help the snarky comment; bickering was their thing. It was almost weird when they didn't fight.

But for once, Orphen didn't rise to the challenge. He limped forward, closing the distance between them, his expression unreadable. "Good."

And then, shirtless and bloody and covered in grime, he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her into his chest.

For once in her life, Cleao didn't know what to say. Her mind went blank, driven completely off the rails of normal thought into lala land.

What. The. Hell.

Orphen ducked his head, resting against her in such a way that she could feel the faint tickle of his breath against her neck; short, rapid puffs that sent electricity jolting down her spine. He shifted, one hand resting at the small of her back, holding her against him while the other moved to cradle her head. His fingers were gentle, reverent against the fabric of her shirt, in her hair; as if he were afraid. Like if he held her too loose she'd slip through his fingers, too tight and he'd break her.

She should hug him back, right? That would be the normal thing to do. If someone gave you a hug, you were supposed to return it – no matter how completely bizzaro, unexpected and out of wack the whole hugging situation was in the first place. But she couldn't quite make herself do it. She was too stunned, too _shellshocked _to react. Her arms were lead at her sides, heavy and unmoving.

He turned his head, his lips almost brushing her jawline, sending another tingle through her body. It took her brain a minute to catch up with the rest of her, so at first she couldn't make out what he was saying – or, really, that he was speaking at all. But the sound of his voice, angry and raw and _Orphen_ finally managed to break through her state of confusion.

He was saying her name. It was a mantra, a low oath that he whispered over and over again, the word a soft caress against her skin. How he managed to sound infuriated and relieved at the same time was beyond her, but he did it.

Her arms seemed to move of their own volition then, finding their way around him, her hands bunching in his thick hair, tugging her against him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her throat thick with unshed tears, "Orphen, I'm so sorry." And then the tears were falling and she was sobbing, giant hiccups that wracked her chest and made her quake and this was _all her fault_ –

"-Hey." Orphen murmured in her ear, pulling away so that he could look her in the eye. "You know I hate it when you cry." He slid his hand across the back of her head, the side of her face until it was resting against her cheek. Then, just like that night – that night that felt like both a second and a lifetime ago – he used his thumb to brush away her tears.

"Y-y-you made my problems go awa-a-ay for me." She sniffed, shuddering with each fresh wave of sobs. "And you almost _d-d-died _doing it." She struggled against him, trying to pull out of his arms but he held fast, his grip unbreakable.

"Stop." Orphen's tone was sharp and severe; cold and unforgiving.

She kept up the fight, tugging and wriggling about until he finally released her, his mouth set in a firm line. He threw his hands up in exasperation, limping a few steps back.

"Fine. Happy now?" He gritted his teeth, the words coming out rough. There was more blood on her shirt now, sticky and wet from where he'd pressed his bare chest against her. She scrubbed at it absently, not wanting another dark reminder of the danger she'd put him – everyone – in. How had she managed this? What colossal error had she made, to end up in this warped reality, with her friends fighting for their lives?

Why the _hell_ couldn't she remember?

"Um, Master?" Majic's voice, timid and unsure piped up from behind her; she'd almost forgotten he and Hartia were standing there. "Maybe we should try to figure out a way back?"

Hartia interjected before Orphen had the chance, rubbing his hands together and trying to look important. "Right. It's actually pretty simple, really. We already know this is a dream world, right?" When Majic nodded, Hartia tapped him roughly on the temple with his fingers, making him squawk in surprise. "And how do we get out of dreams?"

Majic looked less inclined to answer this question, shooting the teacher a wary look. "We…wake up..?"

"Exactly! Smart kid." He turned to face the rest of the group, waving his arms about excitedly. "It's a piece of cake."

"So, what?" Majic mumbled, looking astonished, his mouth hanging open slightly. "We just have to _think_ ourselves awake?"

As if it could be that simple. There would have to be spells and energy wasted, and Orphen would probably end up draining himself, and he'd never cast another spell again –

"Pretty much." Hartia responded, shrugging his shoulders. "The demon is dead, so the magic holding us here had dissipated."

Cleao blinked, her tears coming to an abrupt halt. "That's…it?"

He nodded enthusiastically, shooting her a smile. "All you have to do is tell yourself to wake up, an –"

He disappeared in thin air, his sentence cut off mid-word. Cleao let out a small shriek, Majic rushing forward, his arms outstretched, as if maybe Hartia had merely gone invisible instead of vanishing completely. He met nothing but air, despite waving his arms frantically back and forth through the spot the read-head had been standing in seconds before.

A cold hand took hold of Cleao's heart, squeezing it painfully in her chest.

"What happened?" He sputtered, turning wide eyes toward his master. "Did the Siren do this? I thought you killed it? How are we going to get him back? What-"

"-Calm the fuck down," Orphen sighed, bringing one hand up to pinch the bride of his nose. "You're giving me a headache."

_I'm standing on a beach. Everyone's with me, and we're all just enjoying the time together, not having to worry about dragons or Heavenly Beings or sorcerers or runes... And then, it changes. Everyone starts...disappearing._

Cleao's hands clenched into fists at her sides, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She felt like she couldn't breathe.

"But how did he do it?" Majic was asking, his worry transformed into a sorcerer's curiosity. "Is it a spell?"

"No, it's like he said. You have to 'think' yourself awake."

_I'm left alone on the beach. And eventually that goes, too; the water dries up, leaving a cracked desert behind. I wander it alone, trying to understand where everyone else went. Why I..._

Her breath was coming in short gasps, nowhere near enough to fill her lungs. Her chest started to burn, black dots dancing across her eyes. Her heart slammed in her chest, kicking into a panicked overdrive.

"Think yourself…awake..?" Majic muttered. For a moment he remained, a slight frown on his face, looking stumped. And then, right before her eyes, he vanished.

The world was spinning; she was staring at the ground, and then the sharp blue sky, and her lungs were empty and her brain was panicking and her heart was going to burst right out of her chest –

Strong arms caught her before she could hit the ground, and her vision was suddenly full of him, his sharp red eyes, the smell of blood and sweat and dirt seeping into her nose. He grunted, clenching his teeth, the muscles of his jaw bulging; his legs buckled and he slumped to the ground, still cradling her to his chest.

_Why I can't go with them._

"The fuck…was that?" He hissed, glaring down at her, his laboured breathing another reminder of his injuries.

"They're…They're all leaving." She whispered, panic driving her to clutch at him, her fingernails digging into the flesh on his forearms. "You're leaving me here."

At first, he only stared at her, confused and sore and pissed off. But then her words seemed to click into place, and a flicker of understanding crossed his face. His eyes widened marginally.

"Fuck. I didn't even…" He made a face. "Look, it's not like that. No one's leaving you." He gave her shoulders a hard squeeze, but she was still hyperventilating. She couldn't catch her breath, her head was spinning and the darkness was threatening to pull her in –

"-Snap out of it!" He shouted, grabbing her face and squeezing until her mouth puckered. "Look at me." He pursed his lips, taking a slow breath. "In through your nose, out through your mouth." Slowly, the dark spots faded, her aching lungs filling with the air they needed. She blinked once, twice; the world stopped spinning.

"Jesus," Orphen sighed, shaking his head. "You really make it a challenge to save your life, you know?"

"Sorry." She croaked in between breaths, her heart finally slowing to a more reasonable pace in her chest. "I just… I still remember the nightmares." For all the things she'd forgotten, you'd think that would have been one of them, but of course that would be too easy.

"I'm not going to abandon you." He muttered, his arms still wrapped around her. "I promise."

She nodded, closing her eyes.

Breathe. Just breathe.

"All you have to do is wake up, Cleao. Tell yourself to wake up, and you will."

Wake up.

"You can do this, Cleao."

_Wake up._

When Cleao opened her eyes again, she wasn't greeted with Orphen's sharp gaze. Majic was staring earnestly down at her, his blue eyes wide.

"She's awake!" He shouted, glancing up at someone. "Hartia, she's awake!"

"Krylancelo will be right behind her, I imagine," another voice sounded beside her. And then Hartia's bright red hair was in view, his freckled face looming over her. He let out a breath of relief before giving her a tight smile.

"Welcome back to reality."

_A/N: Also, apologies for any and all typos and grammatical errors. By the end I gave up editing and just plopped it in here. Thanks to everyone who has stuck around so far! :)_


End file.
